Holiday Horrors
by Jess S1
Summary: The wicked won't let the righteous rest, even during the holidays. Buffy and Charlie wander a little farther into the mysteries of the supernatural…but at what cost? Sequel to 'A Call Away' - Part 3 in M&M.
1. Prologue

**_Disclaimers:_** _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. _Numb3rs_ belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)

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**_Author's Recommendation:_** As this has become a fun, normal thing for me, I thought I'd give it it's own category (at least when a good fic catches my attention).

To those who are interested, this time I'm recommending a _Narnia_ fic, which centers around the idea of Earth & Narnia meeting post-LW&W & pre-PC. It's really very interesting, and though not get complete, the chapters always seem worth waiting for, to me at least.

A Narnian Revelation by cap red

Summary: InEnglandthe Pevensies are living their lives, no one but them knowing about Narnia and that they were Kings andQueensthere. What happens when a Portal between worlds opens and the Narnian world becomes part of the English one? (Work-in-Progress)

Fandom: _Narnia_

: /s/4983179/

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**_Warnings: _**You should read First Meeting and A Call Away before this.

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**_Author's First Note:_**** Thanks again to NeverTooOld for beta-reading! :-)**

**Now here's the start of the next bit… Enjoy! :-)**

**Holiday**** Horrors******

**_Part III in Mathematics & Magic_**

By Jess S

**_Prologue_**

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**_Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Friday, November 29, 1996_**

Buffy sighed, glancing at where her cell phone was charging, currently turned off. She half-expected Charlie to call at any minute, despite the fact that they'd talked to each other for over a half an hour earlier that evening. That was before she'd done her homework, gone to the Bronze, and gone patrolling with Faith.

Somehow, though, the day just wasn't sitting with her.

She felt…off. And she couldn't explain why.

Talking to Charlie hadn't helped because Charlie was feeling the same thing she was and was just as incapable of explaining it.

Maybe it was some kind of Slayer-vision-thing that Charlie was picking up on through the bond? But no, if it was, wouldn't Faith be feeling it too?

She still felt more than a little bad for Cordelia, of course.

The confrontation between Cordelia and Xander had happened yesterday evening at the Bronze.

There hadn't been any major problems on Tuesday, since Xander had really been too out of it most of the time for even Cordelia to do anything other than pity him. And she had, in fact, been quite miserable as she'd watch him struggle through the school days with his still healing injury.

But, as Buffy had complained to Charlie earlier in the week, Cordelia had begun to suspect that something was going on, undoubtedly clued into the way Willow and Oz's relationship had suddenly cooled in the aftermath of the kidnapping-for-love fiasco.

Not that Xander had really helped his case with his girlfriend, since he'd barely been willing to talk to or look at her most of the time he was hobbling through the halls or hunched over in class.

That'd apparently come to a head when Cordelia and Harmony had run into each other in the hallway, and seen Xander accepting help from Willow between two classes. Buffy had winced when she'd caught Harmony's comment to Cordelia, teasing that Xander was probably gonna leave her forWillowand she'd just be his cast-off. It'd thrown her even more how quickly Cordelia had accepted the idea and then flown into an unreasoning rage at it. Oh, she hadn't attacked Xander andWillowin the hallway there, Buffy wouldn't have let her. But she did confront her boyfriend later that day.

In the evening, Xander actually made it to the Bronze; making Buffy really wonder at just what her friend's home life was like, for him to be completely unwilling to recuperate in his parent's house if any alternative was possible. Nonetheless, that was where Cordelia confronted him, and where he had reluctantly admitted that his feelings forWillowhad grown from what they'd been, but that he was trying to ignore them. When pressed, Xander had also admitted that he andWillowhad kissed a few times, by accident, a few weeks ago.

Cordelia had stormed off, and then been humiliated when Faith had accidentally pushed her into a pile of trash in front of Harmony's clique while fighting a vampire. The younger Slayer had offered a half-hearted apology as she rushed off after the vampire, but had left Cordelia to be tormented by Harmony again.

Buffy had found out about the later part of the incident while on patrol with Faith that night, who'd felt pretty bad about it in retrospect. She'd then gone out of her way to find the other girl this morning before classes started, only to be aghast at how much anger and hurt had been rolling off of her. She'd tried to comfort her, but been cut-off by Harmony, who'd taunted Cordelia for still hanging out with Buffy.

Thus, Cordelia had avoided the whole Scooby gang for the rest of the day.

That day had also been the first day for a new girl named Anya, who'd arrived at school and immediately set herself on befriending Cordelia. Buffy had thought Anya might be a demon, but hadn't been sure of what kind when she bumped into her in the hall, and the possible-demon had been quick to vanish in between classes. What's more, she hadn't been able to figure out _why_ any demon would be interested in talking to the hurting, angry Cordelia.

However, that afternoon she'd run into Anya again—an Anya who was more than a little upset and looked very lost—and Buffy was surprised to find that the girl no longer registered as remotely demonic to her Slay-dar. At that point she was entirely human, if a bit weird and over emotional. Other than her not registering to Buffy's Slayer senses, though, the only thing that'd been different was that the girl hadn't been wearing the weird necklace that she'd had on earlier in the morning.

Buffy had of course told Giles about all of that. And hopefully he'd find some answers for them soon.

Still, Buffy couldn't get to sleep. Something still wasn't right.

But what?

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**_Eppes House, Pasadena, California – Friday, November 29, 1996_**

Charlie's eyes snapped open as a wail of pain and lonely emptiness suddenly slammed across his bond with Annie, stealing the breath he would've used to release the pent up cry. He started to push himself up to reach for his cell phone, but that was when the memories hit.

The memories of the Thursday that _hadn't_ happened.

And the shadows of the lifetime that'd come before it.

A life without Annie.

A life wherein he and Annie had never met.

How exactly Charlie would still be breathing in such a world wasn't answered; Charlie couldn't remember being attacked there. But he could remember the loneliness, the emptiness. The lack of everything he had now, but wouldn't know to miss if he hadn't met Annie months ago.

And he had Annie's memories, too. Or, at least, shadows of memories. Most of them just outlines, sort of the story of what would have been; but all of it was overwhelmed with the painfully poignant absence of the empathetic bond he shared with Annie and all the friends he'd gained since then.

That world for Charlie wouldn't be too different career-wise. He'd still be getting ready to teach at _Cal-Sci_. But his big brother wouldn't be worriedly calling all the time. He wouldn't be talking to his girlfriend whenever he could and helping out at _Angels' House_ whenever he got a chance. It wasn't quite a life without meaning, it was just a much emptier life, a life where he hadn't yet had the chance to connect with anyone. Let alone anyone as special as Annie.

Annie's life however, was like it'd lost all the color; everything good had been bled out of it, until there was only black, white and gray. Only orders from the Watchers Council and missions to be carried out. Charlie wasn't arrogant enough to believe that the change in Annie's life that might've been was just the fact that she'd never met him. No, something more had altered her life and had probably been the reason, in that lifetime, that they'd never met.

_Ring. Ring._

His cell phone, ringing loudly from his computer desk, yanked him out of his thoughts, and Charlie winced, hurrying to answer it before it woke either of his parents up.

"Hello?"

"_Charlie…_" Annie let out a clear sigh of relief that echoed over their bond, crossing the painful void—left by the empty feeling they'd been hit by—like a balm.

"Annie," he closed his eyes, taking a slow breath in equal relief. "You've no idea how happy I am to hear your voice."

"_Oh, believe me, I have an idea,_" she disagreed, but with clear happiness behind her words.

"Do you know what happened?" the mathematician asked after a moment of heavy silence, trying to search for some logical explanation for the terrible memories and, upon not finding any, more than willing at this point to search the supernatural for the source. "There was a demon, right?"

"_Yeah, Anya, I think._" Annie confirmed with a sigh. "_She came to school yesterday and got real buddy-buddy with Cordelia for a while. She felt like a demon in the morning, but later in the afternoon she didn't. I don't know why. I'll have to ask Giles._"

"You didn't ask him already?"

"_Well, I told him about Anya and her feeling like a demon and then not after her creepy necklace was gone, but I didn't have these…memories, I guess, last night._"

"Oh yeah, that makes sense." Charlie nodded, even as the vague memories hit him again.

It was like remembering a dream.

Or, actually, more like remembering a really terrible nightmare.

Bits and pieces overlapping to form horrible thoughts. All of it enveloped in that terrible feeling of disconnectedness and lonely apathy.

It was amazing to think that, though they hadn't even known one another for a whole year yet, life without each other would be so much less than what it already was for them.

"_…Well, um, I guess I should give Giles a call?_"

Charlie blinked, "Y-Yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Call me later, alright?"

"_I will._"

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**_Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Saturday, November 30, 1996_**

Faith shook her head as she reached for the half-empty water bottle on her bedside table, leaning back a little to draw a few long gulps from it before putting the cap back on again.

The Wednesday and Thursday of this past week had put its preceding weekend to shame. As horrible as Willow getting kidnapped by the love-sick and drunk Spike, Xander getting hurt, and Oz putting his andWillow's relationship on hold had been, Queen C had, of course, gone above and beyond all of that.

According to Giles, Queen C had made a wish to a _Vengeance Demon_. The wish had led to a warping of reality that Buffy and Cordelia alone remembered. Though B hadn't been overly talkative on why she thought she remembered and Faith didn't, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with whatever was going on between B and Math-man. She'd heard them talking later.

Still, the idea that wishing something could screw up so much…

Well, needless to say it was something all of the Scoobies were now well forewarned against. 'Wish' had officially become 'the 'W' word,' never to be spoken out loud.

Not that that was all that'd troubled the younger Slayer lately.

"Having trouble sleeping, Faith?"

Only the fact that this wasn't the first time that this'd happened kept Faith from completely crushing the all-too-breakable glass bottle. She finished setting it back down on the table, then closed her eyes, not looking in the direction the voice'd come from as she answered it. "You're not really here." She said firmly, but very quietly, not wanting to catch Buffy's super-sensitively sharp ears.

Diane Dormer's familiar—and much missed—voice sounded just as nice as she remembered it. "I'm always here."

Faith shook her head, curling her fists carefully together to avoid breaking anything with any sudden outburst of Slayer strength. "Leave me alone," she whispered.

"I can't," was the expected response. "You won't let me."

"What do you want?" the slayer asked for probably the hundredth time.

What she wasn't expecting was an actual answer.

"I want to help you."

**End of…**

**Holiday**** Horrors******

**_Prologue._**

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**_Author's End Note:_ **

**Now, between the epilogue of A Call Away and this prologue, we've covered _S3E8 'Lovers Walk' _and _S3E9 'The Wish'_! And we've started making our way into _S3E10 'Amends'. _Hopefully this explain—at least in part—why it's taken me a long time to get this piece of the series out. It, obviously, took much longer than it should have, but I'm afraid a writer's block inserted itself in there, too. **

**I am sorry it took so long. As I said earlier, hopefully shorter chapters will make it easier to get updates out quicker. I hope the most recent chapters were worth the wait, and hopefully more will be ready soon!**

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**_To Be Continued in…_**

**Holiday**** Horrors******

**_Chapter 1._**


	2. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimers:_**Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. Numb3rs belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)

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**_Warnings:_**None that I can think of…if you see anything I should've warned you about, please tell me. And if so, apologies in advance.

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**_Author's Note:_**…And, strangely, I don't have much to say today…

So on to Chapter 1! Enjoy! :-)

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**Holiday**** Horrors******

**_Part III in Mathematics & Magic_**

By Jess S

**_Chapter 1_**

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**_Summers' House, Sunnydale, California – Monday, December 9, 1996._******

_Faith hated this dream._

_'No.'_

_She knew it was a dream—a nightmare, really—because she'd had it before._

_Many times before._

_It was one of those really creepy ones, where you knew everything that was going on and even what was about to happen, but you couldn't do anything about it. (1)_

_'No.' _

_She was 'looking' through her own eyes, and knew full well what was gonna happen next in the dream. But she couldn't run away. Couldn't turn away. Couldn't close her eyes. Couldn't even blink._

_All she could do was stare at the mound of a freshly covered grave, waiting for the vampire that was stirring underneath to finally pop out of the ground like a rabid, blood-sucking, human-shaped weed. _

_'Can't be.'_

_She could only keep staring as first one deceivingly delicate-looking hand shot up from the mound, and then a second one followed, both clawing around for barely an instant before the vampire gracefully pulled itself up from the grave. Surging up out of soil with a grace that most fledglings never had. Hell, most Masters didn't have it._

_Faith had seen two different endings to this dream. _

_She wasn't sure which one was worse._

_'No.'_

_This time, the Slayer's well-trained right arm shot forward to expertly plunge a stake through a fashionable summer dress, into and through the un-beating heart beneath._

_And Faith could only watch in horror as the vamped-out features shifted back into Buffy's familiar, dismayed face, right before her sister's form crumbled into dust. _

_'No!'_

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**_Summers' House, Sunnydale, California –Monday, December 9, 1996._******

Buffy's eyes snapped open and she was rolling out of bed before she'd consciously recognized what'd woken her. As realization struck, she sighed softly, then was exiting her bedroom and headed down the hall on swift feet for Faith's room.

"No." Faith mumbled, obviously totally asleep.

"Faith," Buffy spoke softly as she entered the bedroom, all the while struggling to keep her voice gentle and free of the terrible terror that was rolling off of her sleeping sister to assault her empathetic senses. She hesitated only a second before reaching out to gently grasp the girl's shoulder. "Faith, wake up."

Sometimes that was more then enough to wake her. The single touch would have the girl bursting up from her bed, ready for a fight.

Other times, like now, the younger Slayer seemed practically dead to the world as Buffy gently shook her.

Now Faith mumbled, "Can't be."

"It's just a nightmare, Faith," Buffy tried again, still struggling but managing to keep her voice calm as negative emotion after negative emotion surged off of her sister-Slayer. "Come on, Faith. Wake up."

"No." This time while softly hissing out the objection, Faith almost managed to jerk away from Buffy's grasp, but her sweat soaked skin slipped only a little in the older Slayer's firm grip before Buffy caught her other shoulder and shook her a little harder.

"Faith, it's only nightmare," Buffy shook the girl again, "Wake—"

"No!" This objection escaped on a shout as Faith finally surged upward off her bed.

Buffy barely managed to restrain the younger girl, but she was able to hold her in place. Which was fortunate, because she knew the girl would have instinctively attacked her and felt horrible about it afterwards.

She knew, because it'd happened before. On one of the previous nights Buffy had been awoken by the negative emotions storming out of her sister Slayer's room.

Faith had been _miserable_ for days after the time she'd managed to give Buffy a black eye. More miserable then what's become the usual, at least. Because the nightmares she'd been having for several weeks now had managed to keep her miserable pretty much 24-7 anyway.

But that was why Buffy was so careful now.

While she didn't really care for bad bruises marring her face, seeing—and feeling—Faith flinch every time she glanced at it was considerably worse than having to expertly cover it with make-up and sunglasses for a few days.

Though, come to think of it, Faith had been flinching away from her a lot lately.

Buffy forced a small smile as she looked into her sister Slayer's eyes, struggling to keep the very real concern she was feeling from showing too much. That'd just make Faith close up more. "Hey, you okay? You with me now?"

Faith started to try and pull back, but obviously thought better of it as she registered Buffy's careful, firm grip. After a long couple of seconds and a few deep breaths, she nodded. "Y-Yeah. I'm fine, B. I woke ya again, didn' I? Sorry 'bout that. I'm five by—"

"You're not fine, Faith," Buffy sighed, shaking her head as she smoothly shifted her grip, carefully pulling the other Slayer into a gentle hug. "And I told you not to worry about waking me. You're a Slayer, too. You know just about anything can wake us unless we're comatose. Hell, I sometimes wake up four or five times a night, 'cause of stuff that's happening outside. A loud car driving by. A raccoon wandering around the backyard. An owl 'who-ing'." She shook her head sharply when Faith opened her mouth to retort. "I don't mind. So stop apologizing, okay?"

After another long pause, Faith nodded slowly. "K."

"Okay," Buffy nods again, tilting her head a little to get a clear look into the younger girl's eyes again. "You wanna tell me what you were dreaming of this time?"

Faith looked away, worrying her lip for a second before shrugging. "Just something I don't want ta happen."

Buffy frowned at her. That was, basically, the same thing the other Slayer had said after every nightmare Buffy'd woken her up from. When she was willing to say anything at all. Though the past few weeks had clearly taught Faith that it was faster to just give the older Slayer answers rather then try to brush her off. "Something to do with slaying?" she prodded gently, worriedly trying to read the chaotic emotions that were coming off of the brunette, even as she scrutinized Faith's face for anything else it might offer that her empathy wouldn't give her.

Faith shrugged, but Buffy caught the quick almost-grimace that started on the corner of her mouth and around her eyes before she suppressed it.

Buffy sighed, deciding to go with another tactic even as she let the younger Slayer pull away a little, and let her hands drop down to the bed even as she continued to watch her sister.

The tactic was one that Charlie, surprisingly, had suggested to her the day before after she'd finished venting her worries to him via cell phone. Try to form some kind of connection that the other girl could—and hopefully would—latch onto.

"I used to have nightmares a lot more, when I first started out." Buffy admitted softly, carefully focusing on something across the room just before Faith's gaze jerked back to her. She continued before the other could say anything. "AboutMerrickdying. Fighting Lothos again. All the people I'd failed to protect..."

"What'd ya mean?" Faith questioned after a long moment of silence.

"At Hemery, I got most of the minion vamps in the gym with the fire, but not all of them. And even the ones I got there, some of 'em took several students with them." The older Slayer shook her head. "I felt bad about that, of course. But the others were worse." She waited a second for Faith to question her again, and was pleased when the brunette took the bait. Though she very carefully didn't let that pleasure show.

"The others?"

"The ones that got out of the gym, but didn't escape the vampires that'd also escaped." Buffy sighed. "The ones they just killed were awful enough, but they didn't kill all of 'em."

The silence was heavy between them as the other Slayer quickly caught what she was saying.

"They turned 'em?"

"Yeah." Buffy nodded, "They did." She was quiet a little bit longer, before going on. "They were kids I'd gone to school with, you know? I didn't really _know_ most of them. We weren't friends likeWillow and Xander and Oz and you are my friends."

"But you'd known 'em forever."

Buffy nodded, still keeping her eyes focused away from the younger Slayer. She might be wrong, but she was pretty sure Faith'd shut down completely, again, if she tried for eye-contact too early.

Not that this was the easiest thing for her to talk about, anyway. She'd only ever talked to Charlie about it, when she'd been back inL. introducing him to what her Calling meant. Though they'd never actually visited Hemery High like Charlie had suggested, she hadn't been ready for that. Not yet. Still wasn't, really.

"Only four were turned. I checked the papers after. About two dozen were killed, but only two went missing. And only two of the ones killed rose again."

"You find 'em?"

Buffy nodded again. "Yeah. I got the ones that rose again the next night in the morgue. Found the other two and their so-called sire about a week later." She shook her head again. "It was after I got the last of 'em that I finally broke down. Tried to tell my mom and dad what'd actually happened."

She felt Faith's concerned, knew the younger girl was frowning as she asked, "What happened?"

Buffy shook her head sharply, finally turning her eyes back to Faith's and fighting the urge to wince as she knew it was the wounded depths of her own eyes that'd made the younger girl flinch ever-so-slightly. "That's a story for another time, I think." She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath as she forced the memories back, before letting her eyelids open up again so she could lock gazes with her sister Slayer. "You wanna tell me what your nightmares have been about yet?"

Faith stared at her for several long seconds, her emotions bouncing all over the place behind a rather impressive, if clearly guarded, mask. Then she shook her head. "No. Not yet, B." She bit her lip for a moment, then added, "But thanks."

Buffy nodded slowly in acknowledgment, before she rose to her feet. "Like I said, not a problem." She moved swiftly on silent feet to the door, "See ya in the morning."

"Good night," Faith returned, just before Buffy gently closed the bedroom door behind her.

The older Slayer stood there in the hallway for several long seconds, memories of times she didn't like to think about now bouncing around her head. Finally she shook her head, shooting a pained glanced down the hallways towards her mom's room, before turning and heading back to her own.

Hopefully that'd been enough of a heart-to-heart to help Faith open up a little more in the near future.

Because Buffy really didn't want to talk about her parents' response to their daughter's Calling. If she was honest with herself, part of the reason she'd been so unwilling to bow to her mother's ultimatum was because of what'd happened the first time she'd told Joyce and Hank Summers about what goes bump in the night.

She hadn't really had a choice when it came to telling Charlie, with their bonds opening their brains up to each other more and more.

Didn't mean she really wanted to talk about it anymore any time soon. That time was a bit of a taboo subject in the Summers household anyway.

But she'd probably talk about it again.

Especially if it was something Faith needed to hear about.

Still, she could hope that that never became necessary...

Buffy started as the familiar sound of her phone vibrating hit her ears as she stepped into the room, and moved swiftly over to where it was charging. She didn't really need to glance at the screen, she already knew who was calling as she flipped it open, "Hey Charlie. She wake you up, too?"

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**_Eppes' House, Los Angeles, California—Monday, December 9, 1996._**

Charlie bit back a sigh as the weary worry in his girlfriend's voice echoed as clearly across the phone as it did through their bond. "Yeah. She okay?"

Annie did sigh then, "_Not really. She still won't tell me what's troubling her so much. I know it's probably not a vision or anything, 'cause if it were I woulda Seen something too, or Sineya would have._"

"That's likely," he agreed mildly, not that he really needed to. They'd already discussed this several times before now.

"_I tried talking about Lothos and Merrick, and all of that a little,_" Annie confessed, before sighing again. "_I think she almost opened up to that, but I mighta shot her down when I didn't wanna tell her how my parents reacted to my telling them about vampires not long after I burned Hemery's gym down._"

Charlie nodded slowly. "She'll talk when she's ready. All you can do is be there for her." Then he paused a moment, thinking over another idea that'd chosen that very second to pop into his head.

"_Charlie?_" Annie clearly felt his thoughtfulness over the bond.

The long distance empathy between the two of them seemed to be becoming clearer and clearer by the day, but it was especially clear when they were talking over the phone. Maybe because it worked with whatever it was hearing in each of their voices? Or maybe not.

"You know, neither of us are really trained to deal with this kind of thing. We may be going about it the wrong way."

"_I know, but what are we supposed to—_"

"You could try talking to your school counselor. He came back, didn't he?" He was pretty sure that Annie blinked, though it was still a bit disconcerting that he actually knew that when he was talking to her over the phone and she was quite a ways away.

"_Dr. Platt?_"

"Yeah. He knows at least a little about the supernatural, you said he'd mentioned that his accepting some of the supernatural had actually helped him connect to some of the Sunnydale students a lot, didn't he? And he _is_ trained for this kind of stuff, Annie. Especially if he has a doctorate in it. He probably has a business outside of the school that deals with more serious problems. Like this."

She was biting her lip slightly as she mulled the thought over, but then she nodded. "_I guess so… and he did say that. Do you really think it'd help?_"

The genius nodded immediately. "Yes. Absolutely. I know when I talked to a psychologist back atPrincetonand M.I.T. it did wonders for me." He was a little surprised at how easy admitting that rolled off his tongue, but then again, this was Annie. And she already knew a bit about his unusual college career anyway.

"_Okay. I'll try to talk to him today._"

"Good," Charlie approved, even as he struggled to bite back a yawn. He'd been woken up earlier by the surge of fear that'd shot through their bond, sending a surge of adrenaline through his system. Whether he'd been feeling Faith's fear through Annie or Sineya, or possibly both, he didn't know, but already that was fading since all those involved recognized that the danger had past. And it was just past three in the morning.

"_Sorry we woke you, Charlie,_" the Slayer offered unhappily, before sighing. "_We should probably work a lot more on that shielding stuff._"

"Probably," the mathematician agreed with an echoing sigh. "Not that'd probably make all that much of a difference, since the bond still seems to be getting stronger all the time. But it couldn't hurt to make sure our shielding abilities get stronger at roughly the same rate, too."

"_Uh-huh,_" the Slayer agreed again, and he was sure she was frowning now. "_You should get back to bed._"

"So should you," Charlie retorted, then kept going before she could reply. "But not before you finish telling me what's bothering you now. I know it's not just Faith. I can feel it, remember?"

Annie sighed yet again. "_Yah, sorry 'bout that. I was just thinking about the magic-side of all this. Giles is pretty anti-magic, and apparently Slayers are always discouraged from learning it, but…_"

"But it's as much a part of what you are as the super-strength, healing, and all that?" He finished, nodding his agreement. "Yeah, I've wondered at that. Though Dr. Giles did seem to shy away from the topic."

"_I know he got involved in some pretty dark stuff when he was around our age, but I really think that magic might be something we need to learn more about. Especially with the bond, since that's from the completely magical-side of the Slayer package._"

"I agree," he nodded again, before shrugging. "Lily's been taking more lessons, and I've met with Madam Ward a few times already, for her help controlling the bond. Do you want me to talk to her about this some more?"

Annie was quiet for several long seconds, before she agreed, "_I think that might be a good idea…_"

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**_The High School, Sunnydale, California—Monday, December 9, 1996_**

Buffy was more than a little relieved to see Dr. Platt's office open later that morning. If he hadn't been in, she'd have an excuse to put this off, and she didn't want that. Not really. Stopping just inside the doorway, she shook her head slightly, suppressing a grin at the sight within.

Dr. Platt was apparently trying to fix one of the window shades that'd been put in not that long ago, and not having much luck. Which really did go to show just how cheap Snyder was, since the things were only a few weeks old and already misbehaving.

Her grin did force its way out just a bit as her enhanced hearing picked up the counselor's muttered swears. But then she decided on calling his attention to her. "Knock, knock. Need a hand, sir?"

Dr. Platt started, but thankfully not enough to throw himself off his rather precarious perch on his chair. A clear look of surprise flashed across his face before it was replaced with a small grin. "Miss Summers, good morning." He shot the still crooked shade a disgusted look, before carefully stepping down to the floor and rolling his chair back fully behind his desk, though he didn't sit down. "What can I do for you? I don't remember getting any more notices about you…"

"Nah, Snyder hasn't been able to pin anything on me yet. Not with Mr. Walters following him around all the time."

"Yes," the counselor chuckled. "Fortunately, the Superintendant's Assistant does seem to be quite good at keeping our aspiring despot in line." Then he shook his head before slowly dropping down into his chair, leaning back a bit so he was looking up at her instead of down. The posture was decidedly unthreatening—not that she could really feel threatened by him as a Slayer, but the change did make her relax a little bit. "So you're here on your own prerogative, then?"

"Yeah, but," Buffy looked down then, sighing before she continued. "It's not for me. I was wondering if you'd mind talking to a friend of mine."

"Another student?"

"Uh—no. She's… homeschooled, kind of." Actually, she should probably start pestering Giles about that some time soon, someone _should've_ shown up before now to start teaching Faith. "She's been living with my mom and me for a couple of months now. You saw her, actually when—except you probably don't want to be reminded of that, sorry—"

"The brunette?" Platt cut her off gently, and she looked up to see he was eyeing her with clear concern. "I know Miss Rosenberg's a student here. So that only leaves the brunette that followed you out the window. …I take it she's like you?"

"Yeah, yeah she is." Buffy sighed, then blinked as she heard footsteps coming down the hall; other students starting to wander in before school started. Realizing that she probably shouldn't be talking about this where just anyone could overhear, she stepped fully into the room to shut the door behind her. "Her previous guardian was killed, and she's been havin' nightmares a lot lately." She shook her head, sighing again. "I've tried talkin' to her, but…"

"It's not easy," the counselor put in gently, offering a soft smile when she looked up again. "I'd be happy to talk to her, see if I can help." Then he winced slightly, "Though, given the fact that you two had to fight to save my life in here, this may not be the best place to try it. Do you know if she'd be comfortable meeting at home? Or I have another office at a nearby clinic, if that'd be better."

Buffy thought about it for a second, before nodding. "At home, I think. We've had to fight some stuff there, too," there were few places in Sunnydale where they hadn't fought and slain something at some point, "but I know she's comfortable there."

"Alright. How about this Saturday morning, then? Or would sooner be better? I know she's not in school, but I'd prefer to visit with either you or your mother present."

The Slayer mulled that question over for a moment, too, before sighing. "Saturday's good. Is the later morning okay?"

"How about 10 o'clock?"

"Perfect, thanks," Buffy grinned in relief, before wincing as the start-of-day-bell clanged through the air, assaulting her sensitive eardrums as she started to turn towards the door. "I gotta go, but thanks again, Dr. Platt."

"You don't have to thank me, Miss Summers. I'm more than happy to help. Given all you've done for this town, it's the least I can do."

Buffy stopped again, to turn and blink at him. "I'm sorry?"

Dr. Platt chuckled. "Remember, I said my near-death experience opened my eyes a bit to what really goes on in this town? It has really helped me connect with many of the troubles the students here have. And you've come up in more than a few stories." He shook his head at the surprised look still on her face. "They may not know how to express it, Miss Summers. But don't ever think that everyone you save isn't grateful."

Buffy blinked again, this time to suppress the slight burn of tears that wanted to rise to her eyes as she nodded. "Thank you, sir. I'll see you on Saturday."

"Take care, Miss Summers."

* * *

_3 8 1 1 8 1 2 9 5 0 1 9 __0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

**_Pasadena_****_, California_****_—Tuesday, December 10, 1996_******

Charlie shook his head in aggravation as he huffed out another almost-panting breath.

"Ya alright there, doc?"

The genius couldn't help but roll his eyes a little, even as he bent his head forward as he determinedly kept the same pace, putting one foot in front of the other as they headed towards his home. "Fine, Gunn."

The gang-leader let out a little laugh, clearly nowhere near as out of breath as the mathematician was. "You did a lot better this time. Gettin' inta much better shape."

"Thanks, I think," he huffed out, and couldn't suppress a sigh of relief asHunter Streetcame into view. (2)

"Not a problem, doc, not a problem," Gunn laughed again, smirking slightly as he followed just a few steps behind the geek.

While Charlie wasn't in _bad_ shape, one of the things Annie had asked Gunn to do for Charlie was get him into really good shape. Not only teach him how dodge, how to fall, etc., but to make sure he had to the endurance to last in a fight if he found himself in one. So, in addition to the lessons they had two-to-three times a week, which were just starting to move into actually teaching him martial arts and boxing, Gunn had started dragging Charlie out to run at least a mile every other day. It'd confused and worried his parents a little, the first time Gunn and a few of the others had shown up, but they'd recognized them from the House, and eventually gotten used to the idea that Charlie really was finally developing a circle of friends that cared about him. The first several runs had been _awful_, and they'd all but had to carry him home, but at least Charlie was able to do the run on his own now.

All of it was also helping Charlie's self-confidence a lot, though he made sure he never told Don about any of it. He'd heard from their parents about the running, but they didn't know about the martial arts or the boxing. Charlie still didn't quite understand what use boxing would be against vampires or demons, but it definitely was a good form of exercise, and if Gunn said it'd help build up endurance, he was sure it would. But he was _never_ telling Don about any of it if he could help it…

"Whoa, doc," Gunn's hand on his shoulder suddenly jerked him to a stop, making him stumble before the strong man steadied him. "We gotta stop ta talk to Lils an' the others, remember?"

Charlie blinked at him for a second, still panting slightly, before his memory caught up with him. "Oh, yeah. Sorry. I think I need more caffeine."

Gunn snorted, "Yeah, yeah. Water first, though, doc."

"Yes, sir." Charlie chuckled even as he let the Watch's leader drag him into Lily's house.

"There you guys are!" Lily greeted them with a smile and several cold bottles of water. "How was your run?"

"Great, Lils," Gunn answered before Charlie could, all of them accepting the bottles of water gratefully. "Thanks."

"Sure," the blonde agreed, smiling gently even as she pulled Charlie over to the nearest chair to push him into it.

Charlie drained half the bottle before he really felt up to talking. As the soothing liquid sped down his throat, he was surprised when his sixth sense was suddenly assaulted by growing resentment from both Gunn and Lily. He'd noticed while out running with Gunn and the unofficial bodyguards that he pretended to not notice following them around whenever Gunn could get away with it, that all three were unhappy about something. He'd made a few inquiries early in the run, but Gunn had shrugged his question off and sped up each time he tried, his agitation growing and the others caught between amusement and nervousness, so he'd eventually given up. Mostly because he'd known that Gunn would tell him what was bothering him eventually; which apparently happened to be now. "What's going on?"

"Cops have been stoppin' by the House a lot lately," Gunn spoke up when it looked like no one else would.

Lily shook her head. "That's not really the problem. Cops had been dropping by before, every once and a while. And most of 'em have been really nice." She shrugged. "I mean, I've gotten the impression that a bunch of 'em think we're idiots, but, all in all—"

"Detective Lockley wasn't all that nice," Gunn snorted.

"She wasn't," Lily sighed, "But she's just doing her job, Gunn. Honestly, I wish we could help her."

"The cops want to know why so many gangs like the House, and that's really not something we can afford for them ta look into. Too many cops start hangin' around, a lot a the gang bangers are gonna trust us a lot less."

"I know that!" Lily snapped, matching Gunn scowl for scowl. "But—"

"Whoa, whoa!" Charlie set his half-empty bottle down on the nearby side table while frowning at the pair, "Both of you calm down. Whatever's wrong, yelling isn't going to help. And _I_ can't help if you don't clue me into the problem." As his friends exchanged slightly sheepish looks—well, Lily looked sheepish, Gunn more rueful, but the turn their emotions took was the same—he kept going. "Now I know cops have stopped by the House before, for various reasons. Don't most of the beat cops that patrol the area make a point of stopping by at least once a shift?"

"Yes," Lily confirmed with a nod before Gunn could say anything, both of them becoming a little more agitated once more. "It's always bothered Gunn and most of the others, but now—"

"Now you've got a DT droppin' by a' all hours of the day, tryin' ta nail a Watch member for those people that were whacked." (3)

Charlie cut in again before Lily could explode, "So you're worried about a homicide detective that's hanging around _Angels' House_? Investigating a murder—or was it murders?—that happened nearby?" He frowned as he tried to think back, "I don't remember hearing anything about that." He was—yet again—surprised when he sensed a small stab of guilt from Lily as she winced slightly.

"Umm, yeah. A body was found in the dumpster of the club D'oblique a little over a week ago. The papers barely covered it. And…well, you were still recovering from—from helping Buffy. So I didn't tell you."

Charlie couldn't help but wince as an even sharper stab of guilt shot out of Lily. No matter what he said, he couldn't convince her that she wasn't to blame for his foolish use of astral projection back in October. But, given the shape he'd been in after the fact, that wasn't too surprising. At least she no longer felt guilty and angry—at herself—every time she saw him. The first few days after he was up an about again, he'd had a headache whenever he was near her. Knowing he wouldn't be able to change her mind about any of that—not after the number of times he'd already tried and failed—he ignored it and focused on the issue at hand again. "D'oblique is one of the clubs the Watch covers, isn't it?"

"Yah," Gunn replied, shaking his head. "We keep an eye on 'em all, a course, but it's one a the ones we pay more attention to, 'cause it's just a few blocks away from the _House_. Not sure you've been there. It's one a those ones that's terminally stuck in the eighties?"

Charlie thought about it, but he was pretty sure he hadn't been there. Though Gunn's description wouldn't have helped him narrow it down much. Still, he was almost certain that he only knew the name from going over the Watch patrol schedules, maps and reports these last few months. "No, I don't think I have." Then he raised an eyebrow, "How does a body found in a dumpster at a nearby club bring a homicide detective to the _House_?"

Lily sighed, but Gunn let her explain when she glared at him. "That was the first one. There've been three so far."

"Why weren't they in the reports for—"

"They _were_," Gunn rolled his eyes. "Blondie just didn't show those ones to you."

The mathematician frowned at his friend, "I know you just want to protect me, Lily. It's something that most of the people I care about have in common, whether I like it or not. But you can't hide stuff like this from me. If I don't have accurate data when I'm working on stuff for the Watch, the results I give them won't work as well as they should."

"I know," Lily sighed again as she sank down on the nearest chair. "It was stupid and I'm sorry. I—"

"Doesn' help us right now," Gunn growled. "Maybe if you'd told him, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"Why?" Charlie asked before Lily could snap back at the other man.

"She didn't tell you about the stiffs, she just changed the patrols herself. Put a lot more of 'em around—and in—the club."

"I thought it might help!"

"We're supposed to deal with demons, not—"

"Given the shape this monster left the bodies in—"

"Lily," Charlie cut her off again before another argument could break out. "The Watch can _not_ become a bunch of vigilantes for human-crimes." He shook his head. "That's one of the main reasons we don't like to put too many patrols together, as we keep them as small as possible. After talking to Gunn and the others, and Annie—"

"I know I messed up!" Lily snapped, now glaring at him. But her emotions were screaming much more grief and guilt than anger. "But I was just trying to help—"

"And now that DT thinks that three different members of the Watch could be the killer! 'Cause you put them in that club!" Gunn growled at her.

Charlie's frown turned from the blonde to the bald. "They were taken in for questioning?"

"Yah," Gunn sighed, finally sinking down on the couch a few feet away. "None of 'em were arrested, since they didn' do anything…but none of 'em were willin' ta talk without lawyers, so the DT's suspicious, and keeps comin' back to 'em. Since they hang out at the House a lot, tha' led 'er there."

"This is one detective?" Charlie asked, confused. "Don't they work in pairs?"

Lily answered him, though her tone was still short. "She has a partner, but she doesn't always drag him with her. I don't think he's as suspicious of us as she is…Constancethinks it might be because Detective Lockley is more sensitive to the supernatural than her partner. So he's ignoring us, which is probably making her more obsessed." She sighed again. "Apparently that's something that happened a lot back when there were a lot of witch-hunts."

"Oh, that's just _great_," Gunn growled again, his tone strongly sarcastic. "So if she sees one a the nice coven ladies, she migh' wanta start a bonfire?"

"I don't think—"

"No, you don't!"

"Okay, both of you, _shut up!_" Charlie finally snapped, momentarily letting the intense irritation he was feeling—his own combined with both of theirs—take over. When they looked at him in surprise, but obediently shut their mouths, he sighed. "Now, when did this all start? And how many murders are we talking about?"

* * *

_6 1 9 2 0 8 0 1 9 __0 0 0 1 6 1 5 9 1 4 2 0 0 0 0 1 5 6 0 0 0 2 2 9 5 2 3_

**_Summers' House, Sunnydale, California—Wednesday, December 11, 1996_**

_Sleep had quickly become a pastime that Faith didn't like, once these nightmares had started. She still wasn't sure which ending was worse, but the two versions of this dream just weren't letting her psyche go._

_'No…'_

_Even knowing what was coming, she still couldn't get away. Couldn't run, couldn't hide. Couldn't turn, could blink._

_She just kept staring down at the fresh grave of her sister Slayer, waiting for the monster that'd killed her to shoot up into the night, ready for the hunt. The kills._

_'No.'_

_Again, that deceptively delicate-looking hand shot up out of the thickly-packed earth, a second dirt-covered one following. _

_Again, they clawed around for just a second, before the older Slayer turned vampire surged up out of the soil with a grace that most could only envy._

_Faith had seen two different endings to this dream. _

_She still wasn't sure which one was worse._

_'No!'_

_This time, she could only stand there, staring in horror as a smirk stretched the vamp's game-face, an instant before the vampire sprung at her, shoving her back and to the ground, pinning her with impossible strength as sharp fangs plunged into her neck and began greedily slurping her liquid life out of the oh-so-important artery..._

**End of…**

**Holiday**** Horrors******

**_Chapter 1._**

* * *

**_NOTES FROM WITHIN THE CHAPTER:_**

**(1) **If you haven't had that kind of nightmare before: where you're just watching everything that's happening around you, but can't effect anything yourself, I envy you. In my case, it's not even anything particularly bad happening most of the times in the dream/nightmare, it's just that wherever I originally start in the nightmare is where I'm going to stay, until I finally wake up. As in literally the only thing I can move is my eyes/line-of-sight. Can't turn my head or move any of limbs. It really is disconcerting. I've looked into some so-called 'dream guides' and 'dream dictionaries' to see exactly what my subconscious might be trying to say with these kinds of dreams, but thus far I've drawn a complete blank.

…If you haven't had a dream/nightmare like this before and end up having one as a result of this, I sincerely apologize in advance. I had to use it, it just seemed like something that'd work particularly well fitting into Faith's (and Buffy's, maybe eventually any Slayer's) psyche. Slayers are beings of action, champions who exist to effect positive change, so I think not being able to change something—or being stuck in a dream like this—would bother them a lot more than it does me.

**(2) **'Hunter Street' is where the Eppes live… or at least, that's the name I gave the street in First Meeting, I don't think I could actually find an address anywhere. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure I just made it up.

**(3) **DT = street slang for "Detective" (URL: )

* * *

**_Author's End Note:_ **Well, I hope everyone liked it.

…Though I'm having a little trouble with this "short-but-sweet" thing. Thus far, it certainly makes finishing chapters easier, but somehow it doesn't seem quite as satisfying when I finish a chapter and see its only sixteen pages long, instead of over fifty. Hopefully the end result will be worth it… *sighs*

* * *

**To Be Continued in…**

**Holiday**** Horrors******

**_Chapter 2._**


	3. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimers: _**_Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. _Numb3rs_ belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)

**_Warnings: _**Suicidal/Homicidal themes reminiscent of the episodes this chapter draws from. Also, if you're reading this without (somehow) having seen _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ Season 3 and _Angel _Season 1, you may find spoilers herein. If you see anything else in the chapter that I should've warned about, please tell me. And sorry in advance.

**_Author's Note: _**Hope everyone likes the chapter! ^_^

**Holiday**** Horrors**

**_Part III in Mathematics & Magic_**

By Jess S

**_Chapter 2_**

_2-2-1-6-6-2-5-0-1-9-0-0-0-1-6-1-5-9-1-4-2-0-0-0-0-1-5-6-0-0-0-2-2-9-5-2-3_

**_Summers' House, Sunnydale, California—Wednesday, December 11, 1996_**

Buffy's eyes snapped open, the fog that sleep might've momentarily left over her brain banished by the now familiar fears of Faith's unsoundly sleeping mind.

"No!"

The word was whispering down the hallway still when Buffy was halfway to her sister-Slayers room. She almost bumped into her mother—coming out of the bathroom—and stopped to firmly nudge her towards her own bedroom.

Waking a Slayer up from a nightmare was dangerous enough for another Slayer, she wasn't going to let her mother risk herself also. It wouldn't help any of them if Faith accidentally hurt her mom. And given how fragile the unenhanced human body was, Faith—and Buffy—could do a lot worse than that without meaning to.

"Buffy—"

"Mom, we've already talked about this," she cut her off, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but you can't help. Not till after she's awake. Stay out here and wait if you want, but you can't come in till she's conscious."

The time she hadn't thought about it, and had let her mother follow her into Faith's room not long after these nightmares had first started would always be one of the most terrifying seconds of her life. She knew it'd affected Faith a lot too, even without her empathy; the younger Slayer no longer slept with any weapons within her easy reach. They were all just out of reach; so that she'd have to roll towards one of them upon waking, and would therefore be at least half-awake when she used them. Hopefully, that'd mean she'd never throw a weapon of any kind at Joyce Summers again. But even just with the raw strength of a Slayer and no weapons in play, Buffy wasn't comfortable letting her mom enter the bedroom with Faith half-awake or less.

It didn't help that whenever Faith woke up and saw Joyce standing nearby, she now felt awful. She wasn't much better with Buffy, but it wasn't the same feeling; though she'd thrown a knife at Buffy before, too.

But Buffy understood. Faith had come to think of Joyce Summers like she was her own mom—one that actually cared about her—and because of these nightmares she'd almost hurt that maternal figure.

Buffy really hoped she never had to face anything similar. Though it was probably too much to hope for…

"…No…"

That word seemed to be the only thing Faith said during any of these nightmares. Buffy had even let Faith keep nightmaring for several minutes longer than she needed to a few times to see if she'd be able to hear anything else. She hadn't. And she'd felt awful about it every time.

Situations like these really weren't ideal for a budding empath like herself. Maybe with time and training her new gift would be an asset for helping her friends and family with nightmares and the like, but now it just made it really hard to do anything.

"No!" as per usual, Faith's protests rose in volume as the nightmare progressed, so when Buffy stepped into the room, this word was almost shouted.

"Faith," Buffy called, deliberately closing the door loudly as she tried to wake the younger Slayer with noise from a distance. "Faith, wake up. It's just another nightmare."

"No!" was shouted again, and Buffy sighed.

Obviously she wasn't going to have it that easy this evening.

It'd never actually worked, but she always tried now.

Without any further thought, she moved carefully to the side of the bed, and bent down slightly to catch the restless girl's wrists in gentle, but firm grips. "Faith, you've—"

The younger Slayer's eyes snapped open and Buffy was suddenly hit by an even stronger wave of terror and apprehension.

Recognizing that this was one of the nightmares that somehow made the younger girl fear her, Buffy tightened her grip just in time to stop one of Faith's fists from shooting up towards her jaw.

The younger girl's instincts and reflexes proved themselves a little too impressive this time; as with both hands caught, she swung her legs around instead, slamming them into Buffy's hips with all the might of a baseball bat in the hands of a professional player, if not more. The blow should've sent Buffy into the nearby side table, but her grip just below the other's fists instead made the motion send her lower body towards the wall above the table, spinning her around in the air so her feet hit the wall.

Not wanting to hurt her friend, Buffy released her grip and sprang off the wall, flipping in midair to land in a crouch facing the bed a few feet from Faith, watching her warily.

She watched awareness finally return to the girl's eyes even as she heard her mother nervously shuffling around in the hallway.

"Buffy? Faith? Is everything alright?" Joyce Summers' worried voice came through the door, but she didn't open it. Thankfully, what intelligence Buffy had—despite how much she downplayed it most of the time—came from her mother.

"Just a minute, mom," Buffy called back, not wanting her to come in yet. She raised an eyebrow at the younger Slayer, barely suppressing a frown as she noticed Faith's almost imperceptible flinch. "You with us again, Faith?"

"Y-Yeah," the brunette looked down, discontent and shame rolling off her. "Sorry, B… Again. I'm sorry."

Buffy nodded as she rose from her crouch, "Not your fault. But I'm thinking it might be a good idea to talk to Platt before Saturday. See if he can help us get ta the bottom of your nightmares."

Faith's frown deepened, annoyance now joining the other negative emotions. "I don't wanna talk to a shrink."

The blonde Slayer sighed. "I know, Faith. But do you really think you have a choice?" she shook her head, continuing before the younger girl could answer. "When was the last time you got a full night's sleep? I know it's been at least two weeks."

"I…I don't know," Faith admitted, biting her lip as her eyes slid closed to form an expression that actually fit the emotions she was radiating quite well. An unusual thing for the Boston-born girl, who rarely wore her real emotions on her face. "But I—"

"There's nothin' wrong about asking for help when we need it, Faith. And if you can't talk to me, can't talk to mom or Giles…you've gotta talk to someone about this. Bottling it up doesn't work…"

"Obviously," she snorted in agreement, before shaking her head again, one hand rising to her brow to rub at what was probably the beginnings of a stress headache. "…Alright. I guess I'll try ta talk to this doc." After a second she dropped her hand and opened her eyes to look at Buffy again. "This is the guy we saved from the Hyde-kid, right?"

Buffy blinked for a second in confusion before her still slightly sleepy brain made the connection. "Yeah. The one that Oz, um, kind of helped us fight."

That made Faith snort again. "That's one way a puttin' it." She glanced down at her—somehow—undisturbed bedside table, and the digital clock that was flashing **4:17 A.M.** at them. "We should probably get back to sleep."

Buffy thought about pushing for more information, but after a second she nodded, "You're right," she glanced towards the door, which she knew her mother was still hovering on the other side. Another pulse of discontent from her friend decided her. "I'll take care of mom, you get some sleep." She was turning towards the door as she finished. "Sleep well."

"Thanks, B. See you in the mornin'."

_3-8-1-1-8-1-2-9-5-0-1-9-0-0-0-1-6-1-5-9-1-4-2-0-0-0-0-1-5-6-0-0-0-2-2-9-5-2-3_

**_Angels' House, Los Angeles, California—Wednesday, December 11, 1996_**

"Hey, doc?"

Charlie glanced up from the Watch reports he'd been scanning over, not remotely surprised, because he'd sensedDevon's irritation long before the twenty-something-year-old had stopped in the doorway or spoken. "Yes,Devon?"

"That DT's here again, Gunn said you'd wanna know."

"Yeah," the mathematician sighed, but nodded as he rose and made his way around the desk. "Is Gunn with her?"

"Nah, he's hidin' up 'ere in the gym. Lil's is down with her, by the door. Sher' doesn' let 'er past the front anymore."

"Okay, thanks again." Charlie nodded to the much taller man, before following him out of the room and then turning to head down the stairs. As he neared the bottom, he almost missed a step because of the rather strong emotions that were rolling off of the two blonde women in the center of the room, who were currently glaring at each other in silence. "Everything alright, Lily?"

Lily's head snapped around immediately, and she frowned at him for a second—irritation giving way to uncertainty, then relief—before her expression smoothed as she nodded. "No, Dr. Eppes. I was just asking the detective for the warrant she'd need to search the House. She doesn't seem have ta have one."

No. There was nothing really linking _Angels' House_ to any of the murders the detective was investigate. Nothing except the fact that a few Watch members had been in the club at the same time as the victims, and the club was the last place those victims were seen. Well, that, and probably the detective's gut, undoubtedly influence by the fact that the killer was—probably—a demon of some kind, and _Angels' House_ was the only place in the area that dealt heavily with the supernatural.

And she would've have been able to get a warrant without a good deal more, since _Angels' House_ had attracted positive attention from a great deal of the city the past few months, including many politicians, judges, etc.

"Have something to hide, Miss O'Connor?" the older blonde woman raised an eyebrow at Lily, but her attention was now mostly on Charlie. "Dr. Charles Eppes?"

If she'd been investigating _Angels' House_, then she already knew that Charlie was one of the founders, so her interest wasn't unexpected.

"Yes," Charlie offered a warm smile as he held out his hand, ignoring the irritating that Lily—and many others in the reception area and all around—were still radiating. "How can I help you, Detective…?"

"Lockley, LAPD." Instead of shaking his hand, she pulled her badge out and flashed it at him, barely holding it up long enough for him to see the basics before she put it away again. "Would you mind answering a few questions."

"Not at all, Detective Lockley. Though I'm afraid I don't have much time at the moment. If this is going to take a while, we could make an appointment for later?"

"Sure, we could meet at the station—"

"I'm not a criminal, Detective," Charlie cut her off firmly, still struggling to ignore the negative emotions that were soaring all around him. "And I won't be treated like one." He shook his head, then continued before she could speak, "I'm willing to help in whatever way I can, as I've already been told that you're looking into the murders at a nearby club. But I won't let you ruin my reputation and _Angels' House_'s reputation in the process."

"Dr. Epp—"

"If you insist on meeting at the police station, my mother will have to be present—as she's also my attorney." He raised an eyebrow at her, "And while I am not guilty of anything, I'm sure my mother won't let me say much to you as soon as it's clear you're looking at me as a suspect. She's a bit over-protective," then he shook his head. "But then again, it's not like the police don't ever put innocent people behind bars, is it?"

Detective Lockley was frowning at him as he finished, but the anger she was radiating didn't show on her face. "Very well, Dr. Eppes. Where would you like to meet?"

Charlie blinked, honestly surprised by her sudden compliance. "I'll be here for most of the morning tomorrow. Feel free to stop by then."

He certainly wasn't going to meet with her at home, and he'd only just started unpacking his office at Cal-Sci. Those were the only three places she'd have linked to him so far. Three places in Los Angelesat least. And he wasn't going to draw her attention to any of the other supernatural places he was affiliated with through _The_ _Watch_ and Annie.

"Fine," Lockley gave a sharp nod before spinning on her heel and heading for the door. "I'll see you then."

Charlie watched her go till the front door had shut behind her, before sighing as he turned towards the stairs, offering a slight smile to everyone in the lobby watching him. "Nothing to worry about, guys. Get back to whatever you were doing." He glanced at Lily as she started up the stairs with him, and wasn't surprised to see Gunn waiting for them at the top. "I'm almost done going over the reports. I should have the new schedule ready before my class starts."

"_Math for Dummies_ starts in twenty minutes, Charlie," Lily frowned slightly at him. He already knew that, both because he knew the time and he'd noticed how crowded it was downstairs. Crowded with people who regularly attended his class. "You sure you can—"

"I'm sure." Charlie winced at the name—he really couldn't help it, no matter how much it clearly amused his students and made the class seem more approachable to the less-educated. "I just have to plug a few new variables into the equations. My program will do the rest, and the computer can start spitting out reports soon after."

Gunn nodded at him as he finished, "I'll hold off on sendin' the early patrol out, then." He shook his head then, "Good call on sendin' the DT away till mornin'. Quieter then, and most of the gang-bangers won't be around either."

Charlie nodded in agreement, that's why he'd told her to come back then after all.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to get Detective Lockley turned in a different direction.

It didn't help that he couldn't offer to help her with the case and point her towards the real killer. After all, while they didn't know what kind of demon was doing this, they were pretty sure it _was_ a demon. They wouldn't know for certain until one of the witches called back, as the covens were currently trying to look into it. But there really wasn't any other reason—that Charlie or any of the others could think of—for Detective Lockley to be so focused on them.

The genius sighed, before shaking the depressing thoughts off for the moment. He had to finish inputting the correct variables so that the patrols could see what they were doing tonight, and then he had a class to teach.

The last, at least, made him smile.

He'd started thinking he'd like to be a teacher when he'd tried tutoring some of his peers—in math, of course—atPrinceton. It'd been something he'd really enjoyed, and the college environment was one of the few areas where his expertise—his gift—was really appreciated.

Oh, Annie appreciated it; both because she cared for him and he'd been able to help her with her duties. _The Watch_ also benefitted from it. But it was only other professors and some bright college students that he could really talk about his field with.

Nonetheless, teaching outside of college had also been rewarding. The light that'd enter a students eyes, or the smiles that'd stretch across their faces when they understood a difficult concept made it all worthwhile. He also knew that several of his 'students' had already signed up for classes at various colleges. And the ones that hadn't graduated high school had gained enough confidence to look into getting a G.E.D.

It may not be much at the moment, but little by little, he was making a difference in many lives.

And that was more rewarding than any degree, PhD or medal could ever be.

_6-1-9-2-0-8-0-1-9-0-0-0-1-6-1-5-9-1-4-2-0-0-0-0-1-5-6-0-0-0-2-2-9-5-2-3_

**_Summers' House, Sunnydale, California—Thursday, December 12, 1996_**

Faith smiled slightly when the lighthearted conversation in the kitchen caught her ear as she made her way down the stairs.

"So we'll head over to the lot for a tree this afternoon, you think?"

She was pretty sure Mrs. S was smiling as she answered, "Yes, I guess we should get our tree before school break starts, shouldn't we?" she paused a second, just as Faith reached the bottom of the stairs, but then kept going, now sounding a little uncertain. "I'd thought about inviting the Eppes for Christmas dinner, but they're Jewish, aren't they?"

"So'sWillow," Buffy replied, before calling out, "Morning, Faith."

The brunette shook her head, smirking slightly as she made the last few steps into the room. It wasn't like she'd been eavesdropping, just taking her time coming down for breakfast. "Mornin'."

"I know, Buffy, butWillow's family is never around for the holidays and—"

"It's not like Red really practices religion or anything," Faith commented as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. "'Sides the witch stuff she's startin' to get into."

"Yes," Joyce sighed, and shook her head. "But I haven't really gotten a feel for whether the Eppes' are practicing or not. And I don't want to offend them."

Buffy shrugged, "So invite 'em for dinner another night. Say it's a 'holiday dinner' or something. That's what most businesses do, right?" then she cocked her head to the side, eyeing her mother for a moment, and though Faith thought Joyce looked a little uncomfortable, she wasn't sure why it suddenly made B change her mind. "Actually, I could ask Charlie about it? If that'd make you feel better."

"I just don't want to offend them after every—"

"It won't offend them, mom. And actually, I think Charlie's more an atheist than anything else, so I really don't think asking him about Chanukah will bother him." (4)

Faith raised an eyebrow at that. She didn't put much stock in religion herself, and knew the Summers didn't actively practice anything either, but with all the supernatural stuff they dealt with on a day-to-day basis, not believing that anything was out there was a little hard for her to imagine.

"So we're still on for getting the tree today, right?" Mrs. S. asked hopefully. "We can't really push it much later, there won't be anything left."

"Not anything good, anyway," Buffy agreed with a small laugh. "And yeah, this afternoon's good for me. You two wanna pick me up at school or leave from here?"

Faith blinked in surprise, looking backing forth between the two of them, but before she could say anything, the older slayer was going again.

"And don't even try ta get out of it, Faith. Picking out the tree that's goin' in the living room is part of living in the house. It won't even take an hour… Probably."

The brunette blinked as she felt her eyes start to burn a little as she looked down for a second, but she felt a smile jerking at the edges of her lips when she looked up again. "I wouldn't wanna miss it."

"Good," Joyce enthused, before answering her daughter's earlier query. "And we'll pick you up at school, dear. The best tree-lot is on the other side of town, remember? We have to drive by the school to get there anyway."

"Okay, I'll see you guys out front of the school, then." Buffy agreed, before her gaze stopped on the nearby clock. "Drat, I've gotta go or I'll be late. See ya after school."

"Have a good day, sweetheart."

"Bye, B." Faith watched the blonde dash out the door, before she turned back to her breakfast.

Several minutes passed by in relatively comfortable silence, with the brunette gobbling up pancakes as fast as the older woman could put them on her plate. Then they cleaned up together, neither one having much to say, till they were finishing up.

Then Joyce finally broke the quiet, "You haven't been sleeping well, Faith."

It wasn't a question.

And this wasn't the first time she'd tried to talk about it with her either.

But Faith still didn't feel like she could open up to Mrs. S. Not about this…

'_Well, yeah. I've been havin' nightmares about either killing your daughter or bein' killed by her. And she's the one that has to wake me up every time, 'cause I might kill anyone else._'

That'd go over well…

"You sure you don't want to talk about it?"

Faith sighed as she dropped down on the sofa, leaning over slightly to gently open the side-table drawer that held her current study stuff. "I'm fine, Mrs. S. Thanks."

The Council was supposed to be sending her a tutor or some kind, but they hadn't made it there yet. So she had to make do with what Math-man could send her. Honestly, she was hoping some of the stuff the tutor brought would be easier. Cause while it always felt like a great accomplishment when she managed to figure out what Math-man wanted her to, some of the time it just didn't work. And that was frustrating at all hell.

Joyce sighed, shaking her head as she sat down in one of the nearby armchairs. "I just want to help, Faith."

"Yeah," Faith snorted softly. "Just like B. Though I guess I should be glad she's not followin' your example completely, huh?"

Joyce blinked at her, frowning in clear confusion, "I'm sorry?"

Faith shook her head as her awake brain found connection between past conversations with her sister that didn't make her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

_'It was after I got the last of 'em that I finally broke down. Tried to tell my mom and dad what'd actually happened.' _

_… _

_'…They didn't send me any help when Merrick was killed in LA!' _

_… _

_'And I was locked up in that asylum? …I was in there for four months, Giles. With all the Council's **contacts**, you seriously think they couldn't manage to get me out before that?'_

"At least B just wants me ta talk to a shrink. She's not havin' me committed." Faith shook her head again as she remembered her own objection to the Council's lack of action on Buffy's part. '_So they left her in a nut-house with doctors who didn't think she was nuts but held her anyway?_'

Acute emotional turmoil wrenched Mrs. S's pretty features into an expression of evident pain… pain, and shame. "We didn't know, Faith."

"You didn't try, either," she snapped, her indignation still growing as she remembered the far-off—but still hurt—look on B's face the last time she'd referenced it.

'_After Lothos killed Merrick, my first Watcher, I-I guess I just kind of lost it. I eventually managed to Slay him, but then my parents threw me in an asylum while they got a divorce and we moved out here, my mom and I,_' the distantly pained look was still there as the blonde shook her head and shrugged. _'I thought it was a chance to start over. To not be The Slayer anymore… New home, new town, new school, new friends. …But I'll always be The Slayer. I tried to ignore it a few times. When Merrick first told me. When I came to Sunnydale. When I went to LA this summer. …But I couldn't forget. Couldn't ignore it. A part of me **is** The Slayer now, you know?'_

She did know.

That seemed to be the root of all their problems, didn't it?

And if Mrs. S couldn't help her own daughter, how could a stranger ever hope to; PhD in psychology or not?

"I'm not proud of how I reacted, Faith. Either time."

The Slayer blinked as Joyce's depressed voice yanked her out of her head, and she glanced back at the older woman just in time to see her tongue dart out to wet her lips a little before she continued slowly.

"Really, I'm not." Joyce sighed, her pained expression reminiscent of the one her daughter had worn when talking about the same things. "And I don't want to make excuses."

"But why couldn't you just believe her?" Faith demanded, glaring at the woman that'd opened her house to her for a couple of months now.

"Believe?" Joyce gave a harsh laugh, her eyes closing. "Believe there are more monsters hiding in dark alleys that just potential muggers and psychos? That there are things out there that consider a human being their average steak or burger?" she shook her head again. "God! I've been attacked by vampires. My house has been invaded by zombies. I've waited, terror in my heart, every night you and Buffy patrol, praying for you both to return safely…" her eyes open to dart towards the nearby liquor cabinet, but moved away again just as quickly. "And still, I sometimes can't believe that these monsters are real."

After several seconds of silence, during which Faith felt a lot of her anger and annoyance just drain away, she offered quietly, "But they are real."

"Yes," Joyce nodded in agreement. "They are." She bit her lower lip lightly before she continued. "And until you have kids of your own—and I pray every day you both have that chance, but until you _do_—you _can **not**_ _imagine_ how much I **_hate_** that."

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**_High School Library, Sunnydale, California—Thursday, December 12, 1996_**

Buffy shook her head, "She's definitely not getting better, Giles."

"And you're certain you haven't seen anything in your own dreams?" her Watcher queried.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Buffy still hadn't told him about the link between her and Charlie, a part of her just not willing to share that with anyone she didn't have to, no matter how it'd effected her Slaying thus far. But one plus was the fact that every time she had an actual vision, Charlie had it too. She didn't like dragging her boyfriend any further into her world than she had to at any time, but she had to admit that he really was helpful for both analyzing her visions—often catching a lot of stuff she missed and making connections she just wouldn't—and calming her down when they got bad.

Giles sighed, "It is odd," he offered as he pulled his glasses off and started polishing them absentmindedly. "If anything, I would've expected something like this when she first arrived, after Dr. Dormer died."

"Or when she had ta face Kissing-Toast again, yeah." Buffy nodded, then sighed.

"I suppose it is possible that the tribulations caused by Miss Post may have, in turn, led to the nightmares, at least in part," Giles was thinking aloud.

Buffy could tell, because he didn't look at her; in fact, he was still polishing his over-polished glasses. Nonetheless, she nodded her agreement before replying. "I thought of that. Brought it up, but she still won't talk about it."

That Watcher sighed again as she finally put his glasses back on. "Well, I suppose you are right, in that talking to a psychiatrist may be the best option. As Dr. Platt is aware of the supernatural now, and in your debt, he seems an apt choice."

Buffy held her hands up in the classic 'what can you do?' gesture, before offering, "Here's to hoping." Then she grimaced as the school bell split the silence around them, before hopping off the table she'd been sitting on, picking up the books she'd brought in for her next class, and heading towards the door. "Gotta get to history. See you later, Giles."

"Yes, have a good afternoon, Buffy." His reply was as distracted as she was.

Both of them were more than a little worried about the youngest Slayer.

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**_Angels' House, Los Angeles, California—Thursday, December 12, 1996_**

Charlie was really having a hard time keeping a completely calm expression on his face. He knew the anger he was feeling wasn't his own—he'd been fine before Detective Lockley had stormed in this morning—but that didn't make the powerful emotion easy to ignore. He just hoped he was doing a good enough job of hiding it to—at least mostly—escape the older woman's sharp eyes.

"I thought you were going to be cooperative, Dr. Eppes," the blonde snapped after several seconds of silence.

"I'm trying to be, all of us are, Detective," Charlie sighed. "But you've yet to ask about anything we—or I—can help you with."

"You can tell me what Malcolm Smith, Tyler Jones, and Normal Walos were actually doing at D'oblique. Because it's really not their kind of party scene."

Charlie shook his head, "People try new things all the time, Detective. It's not against the law."

And he certainly couldn't tell her that Mal, Ty, and Shorty, were in the club with the other members of their Watch Team: Bob and Dianne, looking for the same monster she was. Except that they knew the killer wasn't a monster in the sense that Lockley thought he was; he wasn't human at all.

Though the covens hadn't yet confirmed that, Charlie hoped to be hearing from them soon. Charlie knewConstancethought that there was a good chance these deaths were demonic though, and that she just wasn't willing to confirm it until they'd figured out exactly what kind of demon they were dealing with.

"And," Charlie continued before detective could launch another attack with her tongue. "You've already been through all these questions four times already, over the past hour," he indicated the nearby clock, shaking his head. "Honestly, if you want to catch this killer, I can't understand why you're wasting so much time here."

"It does seem counter-intuitive," a familiar voice agreed, sending a chill down Charlie's spine.

The mathematician's head snapped around to land on Lindsey McDonald, who was standing at the top of the stairs from the lobby in a—as always—pristine suit and tie. With his attention now on the lawyer and not the detective his empathy again caught the man's bizarre, fear-inspiring apathy that once again confused his sixth sense.

"And who might you be?"

"Lindsey McDonald, esquire with _Wolfram and Hart_," the lawyer came towards them with a smile stretching his lips—that didn't reach his eyes—his business card held out in one hand as his two bodyguards stayed near the stairs.

Detective Lockley didn't take the card, but her eyes narrowed as she turned slightly back towards Charlie, "I thought the whole point of meeting here, Dr. Eppes, was to not involve your lawyer?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow at her, "Does Mr. McDonald look like he could be my mother, detective?" he shook his head and continued before she could answer. "I don't know why he is here," he turned his frown towards the lawyer as he finished, "Seeing as I, myself, and _Angels' House_ have refused association with his firm, repeatedly."

McDonald flashed another insincere smile at him, "I can be very persistent, Dr. Eppes. You may change your mind. Eventually."

"Don't count on it." Charlie replied immediately, "I'm rather stubborn."

"No kidding," Lockley snorted, but Charlie was a little relieved to note that the already high levels of suspicion and anger she'd directed towards him had dropped a bit as soon as he'd deliberately distanced himself from McDonald.

That wasn't surprising, though. If Detective Lockley was instinctively picking up on the supernatural like they thought, that'd be a reason to not like _Wolfram & Hart_ for sure. Even without their unscrupulous reputation.

"Well, Mr. McDonald, as you're not Dr. Eppes's lawyer and he clearly has no desire for your presence, you have no reason—"

"Oh come now, detective," McDonald cut her off, flashing that same duplicitous smile. "Just because my presence is not related to your case doesn't mean I've no need to be here. And you're clearly wasting the good professor's time as it is. Don't you have a killer to catch?"

Charlie had to suppress a wince as the detective's resentment and animosity flared high once again.

"I'm working on it," she ground out, before turning back to the mathematician. Before she could say anything else, though, her phone rang. "Excuse me," she muttered, even as she was pulling the mobile out to answer it right on the second ring. "Detective Lockley."

As she listened to whoever was on the other side of the call, her expression slowly darkened, and Charlie was once again struggling not to react to the negative emotions she was giving off.

"…Right. That's not far from the club, right? …Uh-huh. I'll be there in five. See ya soon, partner." She was glaring as she slid her phone back into the pocket that obviously belonged to it, and continued to glare even as she reached into another pocket to pull a card out. "I've gotta go. You think of anything you're actually willing to share, give me a call."

Charlie nodded as he accepted her business card with a sigh, slipping it into one his own pockets as he replied, "Good luck, detective. I really do hope you catch this guy soon."

Lockley's emotions were still decidedly dark, but the suspicions towards him seemed to lighten—if only a little bit—at his words. "Me too, professor, me too."

Charlie watched her walk quickly over to and down the staircase, not returning his attention to the lawyer from Hell incorporated until he was sure she'd left the building several moments later.

Before he could say anything though, McDonald took over again. "You seemed to be handling that rather well, Dr. Eppes," he complimented, the smile he offered now strongly reminding Charlie of sharks for some reason. "Deny, deny, deny; best thing to do with the police. Well, second best, really. Remaining silent after demanding your lawyer is really the best. But it does make one appear guilty, even when they're not, so—"

"Are you here for a reason, Mr. McDonald?"

"Straight and to the point," the lawyer nodded. "Occasionally a good thing. You haven't yet responded to Mr. Manner's offer."

Charlie felt his lips forming a frown and didn't care to stop it. "Sometimes a lack of answer is an answer."

"True. But not necessarily a wise one." McDonald shook his head, then continued before Charlie could muster a response. "Especially since you're so sure we've already sent you a warning of some kind. Though I'm sure Mr. Deathwok already told you I knew nothing of the matter."

Charlie blinked, "Knew nothing? Does that mean you do know something now?"

The lawyer shrugged. "I may've looked into it a bit. Can't have just anyone throwing my name around without my permission, can I?"

"Who—"

"Uh-uh-uh, that's not how the game is played, Dr. Eppes." The grin McDonald was wearing now looked a lot more genuine than any of his earlier smiles had.

So Wolfram & Hart still hadn't given up on wooing Charlie to the dark side. That really didn't surprise him.

But why would he think that this bait would be enough to pull Charlie in?

Whoever it was that McDonald was prepared to turn over to him: it had to be one of his associates at _Wolfram & Hart_, which Charlie and all of his friends were set on steering clear of regardless.

Charlie shook his head, "This isn't a game to me."

McDonald chuckled, shaking his head. "No, perhaps not. But the fact remains that if you want something from me, you need to give me something in return. Fair's fair, right?"

"But I don't want anything from you. I don't need—"

"No?" McDonald raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, I'll admit to some surprise, then. I'd thought you and the Slayer were becoming quite close."

Charlie's eyebrows snapped together, "What?"

"I'd think you'd be inclined to at least try to protect your girlfriend—"

"From what? She's fine!"

"At the moment, yes," the lawyer shook his head. "But surely you must wonder at what the reason behind the attack was? Why poison—and one that doesn't even kill—instead of a bullet?"

Charlie stared at him for several seconds, before his attention was caught by the arrival of a much more welcome presence. He turned just in time to see one of his favorite witches coming up the nearby staircase, though he wasn't surprised to see her gaze wasn't warm as it locked on Lindsey McDonald. "Constance!" he couldn't help the relief that leaked into his voice as he greeted her.

"Good morning, Charlie," the redhead nodded, her cool gray gaze still on the lawyer. "Mr. McDonald. You and your associates were told to leave Dr. Eppes—and everyone associated with _Angels' House_—alone."

Charlie still couldn't read McDonald with his sixth sense, but he wasn't surprised to see the lawyer backing down—yet again—when confronted by one of the more powerful members of theLos Angelescovens. After all, the lawyer hadn't even brought his bodyguards with him for this.

"Well, despite evidence to the contrary, I do know when I'm not wanted," the lawyer was shaking his head as he moved towards the stairs. He stopped at the very top, a few steps past whereConstancewas still glaring at him. "If you change your mind about needing a little help, professor, give me a call."

A few moments later, the lawyer's disturbingly apathetic presence was moving away from the building at a speed that could only mean he was now in a car.

Charlie shook his head again as he offeredConstancea smile, "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

"Oh, I have an idea." Ms. Westwood sighed, also shaking her head and sending her long red locks swishing back and forth as she did so. "We may need to start warding specifically against employees of the Wolf, Ram and Hart soon. Though we'd been hoping they weren't half as interested in you as they certainly seem to be."

Charlie frowned again, "What do you mean?" then his brilliant mind caught another strange thing she'd said. "And what'd you mean _the_ wolf, ram and hart?"

"The Wolf, Ram and Hart are the company's so-called senior partners. Their demonic owners. Though there are probably other demons who have joined their ranks for whatever reason."Constancesighed, making her way over to the nearest seating area, where she took a seat and watched Charlie do the same before continuing. "Given how much attention they've been paying you—and Annie—as of late, it can only mean that their 'senior partners' are the ones that are interested. The interest in a Slayer isn't unusual, but their interest in you is…disturbing, to say the least."

Some of the words McDonald had said before offering to sing for Lorne came back to Charlie then: _'…the Senior Partners are still interested in wooing you. They haven't authorized any real threats, yet.'_ Frowning as he—once again—puzzled over the implications of the statement, he repeated it to his friend.

Constancesighed again, "While I find it hard to believe that they think they have a good chance of making _you_ turn dark, it is something they're very good at. And not a future I want for you."

"It's not a future I want, either," Charlie almost snapped, but managed to gentle his tone just before the words came out.

"You need to be careful when you deal with them. They're very good at making people see in shades for gray, rather than black and white. And once they've got you thinking like that, they can gradual make you accept shades of gray that are darker and darker. Till even black seems like just another shade of gray."

Charlie thought he remembered McDonald saying something to that effect before, but couldn't recall the words exactly. Still, he shook his head. "Seeing as I have the First Slayer in my head and a direct link to the current one, I don't think they'll have as easy a time as they might otherwise expect. That, and logic isn't really something that can be used to confuse me."

"I hope not,"Constancemurmured with a small sigh, before shaking her head. "Though it's definitely a good reason to keep meeting with Madam Ward as often as you can. She says your control's getting better."

Charlie couldn't help the slight swell of pride he felt at those words. Agatha Ward wasn't an easy witch to impress. That, and working with her to hone his empathetic senses, plus shielding and the magical abilities he seemed to have, was very interesting.

"But I suppose, for now, we should be focusing on the problem at hand, shouldn't we?"

Mind immediately turning to the—likely—supernatural serial killer that'd led to Detective Lockley's suspicions falling on _Angels' House_, Charlie nodded. "You found something?"

The mathematician blinked in slight confusion, determinedly shaking off the image of a snickering ground hog to focus on the here and now. It took a second to get rid of the image from Caddyshack, a movie his father loved—and somehow gotten him to watch again just last weekend—but as he did he reasonably asked, "A what?" (5)

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**_Christmas Tree Lot, Sunnydale, California—Thursday, December 12, 1996_**

Buffy shook her head, not quite sure why anyone would want fake snow on their tree.

"Girls, do you wanna get one with fake snow on it? Be very Christmasy."

Buffy suppressed the urge to wince, and also had to suppress a smile as she saw Faith didn't stop her own wince. "Um, I think those are just for display, mom."

"Wicked tacky display, if ya ask me," Faith muttered, her voice too low for anyone other than another Slayer to hear. As Buffy was standing right next to her, she obviously was meant to hear it, which was emphasized by the grin the brunette shot her. "So, other than the tree, what's 'tis the season' mean for my first Christmas in the Summers house?"

As distractions went it was a good one; it made Joyce Summers smile even as she turned away from the fake-snow-covered-trees to the girl she'd welcomed into their home. "Well, Alan, Margaret and Charlie are coming down next Friday evening for a big mid-day meal."

"'Cause they don't celebrate Christmas, right?"

"Yes, dear."

"And you know," Buffy decided to add her own two cents, "We'll have nog and roast beast. And hopefully an excess of gifts."

"You'll have to wait and see, won't you?" her mom grinned at both of them.

Buffy shrugged, even as she watched Faith glanced back and forth between them in confusion.

"Okay, what am I missin'?"

"I'm too good at guessing what's beneath the pretty wrapping paper most of the time," Buffy told her with a grin. "Bein' a Slayer makes it even easier, better senses and all. But mom started hiding all the presents back when I was nine, and she'd only take 'em out after I went to bed on Christmas Eve, so that any guessing I was gonna do would have to happen on Christmas morning. You'd think, me being in high school and everything now, she'd be a little more trusting, but," she shrugged, then frowned a second later as something occurred to her, "You know you haveta hide everything _in_ the house, right, mom? I really don't wanta think about you going outside in the middle of the night—"

"In Sunnydale, yes I know." Her mother rolled her eyes. "And despite your clear faith in your ability to find whatever I hide, I've never actually hidden them outside of our home; back inL.A., or here."

Buffy's eyes narrowed, "They're in your room, aren't they? You never let me go in there 'round the holidays."

"Because that's where I wrap everything, not necessarily where I hide it."

And, unfortunately, Buffy's empathy wasn't picking up anything other than fond amusement, so no clues on where the prezzies are hidden from that.

"What about G-man?" Faith asked suddenly, and Buffy was surprised to feel no small amount of alarm from her mother. "He doesn't have any fam—"

"No, I'm sure he's fine."

Buffy couldn't hide her confused frown. "We could at least ask him and see—"

Her mother was shaking her head emphatically though, to Buffy and Faith's shared confusion. "He doesn't wanna spend Christmas Even with a bunch of girls." She took a deep breath, then continued; "Let's split up," she ordered, before hurrying off to the right.

With shared shrugs, the two Slayers obeyed, heading off to the left.

"What do ya think that's about?" Faith asked.

Buffy sighed, "Not a clue."

Which wasn't entirely true. But she'd really thought her mother was starting to accept her calling. On both Buffy and Faith's behalf. As much as she knew her mother didn't like them risking their lives, she thought the older woman understood the unfortunate necessity of it…

If she was holding all of it against Giles, that obviously wasn't the case, was it?

But, then again, that wasn't quite the emotions she'd been picking up from her either.

So what _was_ going on?

A snarl from Sineya startled Buffy out of her original thoughts, and her head snapped up to stare around her, scanning for the demon that'd brought the primeval being out again.

They'd come to the edge of the tree lot. Or, to be more precise, they'd come to the edge of all the pretty green trees. The trees past that area were all brown, dried up and ugly.

"Bunch of them up and died on us," one of the tree merchants muttered as he stopped beside her. "Don't know why. But if you want one, I can make you a hell of a deal."

Buffy shook her head slowly, frowning as nothing was registering on her Slay-dar. Nothing other Sineya's incoherent discontent. "No, thank you."

"Girls, over here!" she heard her mother call from the other side of the lot. "This one's perfect!"

Still not seeing what'd set Sineya off, Buffy turned slowly in the direction her mother had called from, pausing as she saw the look on Faith's face, which was decidedly pale. "Faith, you okay?" After several moments of silence, she stepped closer to her, reaching out slowly to careful catch the younger girl's arm. "Faith?"

The brunette started, her over-dilated pupils suddenly snapping over to Buffy. "Wh-What?"

"You okay?" Buffy asked worriedly, glancing back in the direction Faith had been looking; towards the dead trees. "You sense something?"

Faith pulled away from her before answering, pure discontent rolling off her and proving her words were false as she said them, "N-No. No, I'm fine, B. Let's go see what Mrs. S has found."

Buffy frowned as she watched the younger Slayer move away, then turned back to stare out at the graveyard of unwanted trees. She shook her head as she heard Sineya's snarls echo within her head again. '_Couldn't you be a little more clear?_'

She closed her eyes as she started to let another sigh out, then gasped an image overtook the inside of her eyelids.

_It was dark, even though a large fire was burning right in front of her and candles were floating in the air all around._

_Behind the fire there's a round table, with weird artifacts arranged to form three spokes on it, all surrounded by a circle within the table's top._

_Three chanting figures are sitting around the table, one at each spoke point. Their palms are placed flat along the table's rim._

_Sineya's familiar snarl echoes through Buffy's brain, and suddenly she can see the face of one of the figures._

_It has no eyes; in fact, it looks like it's eyes were branded close with weird symbols. One symbol was two X's, one on top of the other. The other looked almost like a Y, except the bottom line continued up instead of splitting into the triangle up top it divided it into two triangles._

Buffy's eyes flew open wide, and she stared around in bewilderment, trying to see what could've caused the weird, waking vision. But Sineya didn't seem to have to anything else to say, so after a moment Buffy sighed again and started after her sister Slayer to see the tree her mom was gushing over.

_6-1-9-2-0-8-0-1-9-0-0-0-1-6-1-5-9-1-4-2-0-0-0-0-1-5-6-0-0-0-2-2-9-5-2-3_

**_Summers' House, Sunnydale, California—Friday, December 13, 1996_**

Faith shivered slightly as her deceased Watcher kept going on, and on, and on. She hadn't even bothered going to sleep tonight. Didn't want to face the nightmares again.

Having the ghost following her around on patrol was bad enough. Especially after trying to ignore her when she was shopping with Mrs. S and B for a Christmas tree.

"You _know_ what you have to do, Faith." Diane's words were softly spoken, but easily tore at her heart, just as they had for quite a while now. "There is only the Chosen _One_."

"_Why?_" Faith demanded, shaking her head furiously even as she made a point of keeping her words to soft for Buffy to hear in the next room over. "Why can't there be more than one? It's obviously not a physical problem for the spell or whatever it is that gives us our strength and powers. Because both Buffy and I are fine. If anything, B's a stronger slayer now than she was a year ago, Giles said so."

Dormer shook her head, looking supremely sad. "If only it were that simple, Faith. But the Balance must be preserved."

"_Why?_" Faith cried, still very quiet, shaking her head yet again. "I may not be anywhere close to the genius that Charlie is, but even I can see that one Slayer against thousands and thousands of vampires doesn't make any sense! Special destiny or not."

"We are not in the business of fair, Faith. This is war." Diane shook her head. "And it's not a war for land, or power, or money, or even love. This is a fight for survival. For the right to exist. And it's never-ending." She sighed, again looking sad enough to tug at Faith's heart. "You know me, Faith. I would've given anything to see you live out a long and happy life—unhindered by your sacred duty. But I have a duty just as you do, and my duty is to make you the best Slayer you can be."

Faith shook her head again sharply, hissing quietly; "You can't make me hurt B. I won't do it. I _can't_."

"Oh Faith," the older woman sighed again. "I know this is hard. But there can't be two—"

"We seem to be doing fine!"

"At the moment, perhaps. But—"

Faith dropped her head into her hands, fighting back tears as she took several deep breaths, trying to ignore the images from her nightmares that kept flashing before her eyes. "B-Besides, B's the stronger slayer. If there can't be two of us, she should be the one that stays."

This time Dormer's response didn't come right away. "…Faith. No. Buffy Summer's has already had her chance. Her time has past. And she wasted part of it on loving one of the enemy, anyway. It's your—"

"I won't kill B!" Faith glared at her, dropping her hands down into her lap to do so. "No matter how long you haunt me, you can't make me do that!"

"Faith—"

"No!" the Slayer jumped to her feet then, still glaring at her former Watcher's ghostly image. "I won't do it!" then she was catapulting out her nearby window to slide partially down the garage roof before dropping easily down to the ground below, before taking off down the street at a speed that most professional runners would envy.

Dormer had moved to the window to watch her run off, and was nodding to herself as Faith's form disappeared from sight. "Finally."

Then she, too, disappeared.

**End of…**

**Holiday**** Horrors**

**_Chapter 2._**

**NOTES FROM WITHIN THE CHAPTER:**

**(1) **If you haven't had that kind of nightmare before: where you're just watching everything that's happening around you, but can't effect anything yourself, I envy you. In my case, it's not even anything particularly bad happening most of the times in the dream/nightmare, it's just that wherever I originally start in the nightmare is where I'm going to stay, until I finally wake up. As in literally the only thing I can move is my eyes/line-of-sight. Can't turn my head or move any of limbs. It really is disconcerting. I've looked into some so-called 'dream guides' and 'dream dictionaries' to see exactly what my subconscious might be trying to say with these kinds of dreams, but thus far I've drawn a complete blank.

…If you haven't had a dream/nightmare like this before and end up having one as a result of this, I sincerely apologize in advance. I had to use it, it just seemed like something that'd work particularly well fitting into Faith's (and Buffy's, maybe eventually any Slayer's) psyche. Slayers are beings of action, champions who exist to effect positive change, so I think not being able to change something—or being stuck in a dream like this—would bother them a lot more than it does me.

**(2) **'Hunter Street' is where the Eppes live… or at least, that's the name I gave the street in First Meeting, I don't think I could actually find an address anywhere. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure I just made it up.

**(3) **DT = street slang for "Detective" (URL: )

**(4)** I, personally, know nothing about Chanukah/Hanukah, other than one I've read. While researching for this chapter, I based most of what I wrote one what I found at the website: in the section for Chanukah.

**(5)** _Caddyshack_ is a comedy, a film from 1980 that, according to Wikipedia, was fairly popular. It was directioned by Harold Ramis, and starred: Chevy Chase, Rodney Dangerfield, Ted Knight, Michael o'Keefe, Cindy Morgan, Bill Murray and Doyle Murray. This was several years before I was born, so I of course didn't see itwhen it came out. My dad recently made me watch it-saying it's one of the best golf movies out there-and I did finid it funny. And I absolutely loved the gopher, so that image made it into the story. (For more information, go to Wikipedia and look up: _Caddyshack_).

**Author's End Note: I dislike the shorntess, but this seemed like a good place to stop. And I have to keep reminding myself that I seperated Holiday Horrors from A Call Away to deliver shorter chapters faster. The wait wasn't too long for this one, right?**

**To Be Continued in...**

**Holiday Horrors**

**_Chapter 3: Balancing Life & Death_.**


	4. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimers: **_Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. Numb3rs belongs to Cheryl Heuton and Nick Falacci…I think. (NOT me!)**  
**

_**Warnings:**_…This probably doesn't come as a surprise, given the direction the story's been going & the episode it's mostly based on, but there's talk of suicide in this chapter. If this disturbs you, you might not want to read it.

Also, there's some profanity in the dialogue. I'm not a fan of swearing—though I tend to do it when I drive—but some times it just fits the character I'm writing. As a result, it makes it in there. Honestly, I should probably use it more with some characters that are rough around the edges, etc., but like I said: I don't like it. So there shouldn't be too much. I just put this warning here because I noticed a few instances of it in the first scene on the read through and figured that if I noticed it, I should probably put a warning about it here, in case someone else doesn't want to read it… Which if you've gotten this far would be odd, since I know there was a little bit of swearing before now. But to each their own!

I can't think of any other warnings: if you see some thing that bothers you, I'm really sorry, but please tell me so I can add the necessary warnings.

_**Author's Note:**_…Well, here's the next part of M&M. Sorry—once again—for the horrifically long wait.

Once again, thank you to NeverTooOld for beta-reading! :-D

Regarding the holiday: thank you to all our veterans. And to those currently serving: thank you, and best wishes for the future.

Now on with the long-awaited chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

**Holiday Horrors**

_**Part III in Mathematics & Magic**_

By Jess S

_**Chapter 3: Balancing**_

* * *

_Don's P.O.V._

_**Somewhere in Boston, Massachusetts—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

Don grimaced as he finished swallowing the last of his—now cold—coffee.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing you're headed to—Where was it? New Mexico?"

Don rolled his eyes, knowing full well that Coop hadn't forgotten, but answering anyway. "Yeah, Albuquerque. Why?"

"Well, for one thing, we haven't had anything to talk about for the last half hour. This way I'll get a new partner who I can slowly weasel personal shit out of."

"I guess," Don agreed with a sigh, shaking his head. "I'm gonna miss some of it though."

"Not the cold."

"No," the southern-California-born man agreed immediately. "Visiting the cold places I won't miss one bit. I'll miss some of the scenery though."

"You're kidding."

"No, I mean, I've seen a lot more of the country since joining F.R. than I did at any other point in my life. Sure, most of the places we had to go to were crappy, but we drove through some nice places on the way, too."

Coop snorted, shaking his head slowly. "I guess."

Don rolled his eyes again. "You've been at this longer than me, Coop. If you don't like it so much, why don't you get out?"

The older man's laugh was on the harsh side. "This is what I'm good at, Don. I've told you that, lots of times before now."

"Doesn't mean you wouldn't be good at anything else."

Coop shook his head, "No thanks, big brother. Don't really care for the responsibility that movin' up'd entail." He sighed, "You'll do good though."

Don winced slightly at the not-so-subtle reminder of part of the reason he'd chosen to go into Fugitive Recovery when he left Detroit. While he liked to help people, he also knew that pretty much every victim he'd be dealing with would be undergoing some heavy emotional trauma. Unless the victim was a corpse, which came with its own emotional traumas on top of the heartbroken loved ones. He wasn't looking forward to witnessing a lot of that; no matter how much he might be able to help them in the end.

"Nah, I wasn't meant for suits and ties, Don. Or most of the crap that comes with 'em. But then there aren't any geniuses in my family, either."

"Charlie's got nothing to do—"

"If you hadn't run into all that trouble trying to look into your little brother's mugging, do you really think you'd have accepted the first offer to move up that came after that?" Coop continued before Don could respond. "I know about the offers you turned down before that: a few of 'em." He shook his head. "Don't get me wrong; I'd've been surprised if you were still here a year to two from now. You'd a moved on eventually either way. You and me are cut from different cloths."

"What? Coop, no—"

"Yeah, we are. I'm the type that's okay with pickin' up the marked trash and makin' sure it gets to the dump. That's too small for you; and it doesn't give you the power to help too many people."

Don knew his soon-to-be ex-partner was right. The main thing he didn't liked about Fugitive Recovery was the fact that all the lives they stumbled through were already torn apart and destroyed, and there was nothing that could be done about it. And yes, he'd still see some of that when he became a field agent, but at least then he'd be really involved in investigations—not answering phones like he had been for most of his time in Detroit—and maybe he'd be able to make a difference.

And Coop _was_ right. Not being able to get anywhere on what'd happened to Charlie—either when his little brother had been attacked in their childhood home or when his girlfriend had been shot with some kind of dart—hadn't sat well with him. He probably wouldn't be able to do much more from Albuquerque, not before he managed to work his way up a bit, but there was no way around that.

"Show time," Coop's sudden comment cut into his thoughts, and he looked up to see that Jonny Stade—the parole violator they'd followed from Texas to Massachusetts—had finally showed up at his ex-girlfriend's house.

* * *

_Charlie's P.O.V._

_**Eppes' Home, Pasadena, California—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

Charlie was having a decidedly difficult time sleeping. Or, actually, just getting to sleep. He hadn't been able to all night.

He thought it might be Sineya. She'd remained relentlessly discontent for the past several days; even before the weird vision she'd sent Annie, though especially so after that.

But she wasn't growling at anything.

She wasn't sending them visions or trying to communicate in any way, as far as Charlie—or Annie—could tell.

She was just…unhappy.

And if she had her own body still, she'd undoubtedly be pacing. As Charlie had been fighting the urge to do just that for hours now.

He'd already spoken to Annie twice this evening.

Once after a routine—and rather boring—patrol with Faith, who Annie thought might also be picking up on some of Sineya's distress as she'd been quiet and unsettled for the whole patrol. Though, really, that wasn't much of a change from what she'd been for the last few days either, so it wasn't something strong enough to base any hypothesis on.

The second time had been several hours later. That was when Annie had decided to head out for another patrol.

It worried Charlie, of course. Everything about Annie's 'calling' worried him. But it made sense, too, so he hadn't protested to strongly. Annie's second search for demons to slay tonight didn't seem to be calming the First Slayer down much, though. If anything, she was becoming continually more and more agitated as time passed.

_Ring-Ring-Ring. _

Charlie nearly fell out of his computer chair as his cell phone's demanding ring startled him. He felt a momentary jolt of relief, but it was quickly doused by the realization that this wasn't Annie calling.

Annie had only left for her second patrol twenty minutes ago. Her having to call back so soon could only mean trouble.

More than that, though, that wasn't the ring that indicated his girlfriend was calling; Annie was one of the people he'd set his phone to identify, and unless she was calling from a pay-phone, it couldn't be her.

Hopefully she wasn't calling from a pay-phone.

But Charlie really didn't think it was her; he still wasn't sensing anything other than Sineya's aggravation.

_Ring-Ring-Ring_.

This time he remembered who he'd assigned that particular ring to: all of the witches he knew in Los Angeles that'd given him their number.

Finally Charlie managed to grab the phone, quickly bring it to his ear even as he activated it. "Hello."

"_Dr. Eppes, good evening—_"

Charlie almost fell out of his chair for the second time that night as he recognized the voice. Though he'd met with Madam Ward several times at her insistence, he'd never spoken to her on the phone. In fact, he didn't think she used them. Whenever she needed to see him, she insisted he come to her, the message usually relayed through one of the younger sisters of her coven.

"—_I apologize for the late hour._"

"Oh—um. Don't worry about it, madam. I was awake anyway. What can I do for you?"

"_You young people never sleep…_" A weary sounding sigh came out of the phone's speaker. "_Though in this instance, it may be a good thing._"

"Ma'am?" Charlie asked hesitantly when she hadn't continued a fairly lengthy moment later. "Have you discovered anything else about the, um, body-snatching burrower…thing?""

"_No, I'm afraid the seers have been decidedly distracted from that objective._" The sigh that came through in response sounded just as weary as its predecessor. "_My apologies again, Dr. Eppes. But I'm going to have to ask you to simply accept what I'm about to tell you and work with it._"

Charlie blinked, but was nodding obediently even before his eyes had opened from the first motion. This woman had been teaching him some pretty strange stuff the last few weeks, and even Sineya respected her. So—given all the wacky stuff he'd seen already—it wasn't that hard for him to believe that she might be calling with something strange that he couldn't ignore. "Of course. What is it?"

"_It has come to the attention of several covens that the young Slayer is in danger._"

He felt the blood drain from his face even as he frantically—almost unconsciously—reached for the always active bond he shared with Annie. "What? But Annie's fine, I mean, I think she's agitated by something, but—"

"_You're forgetting, young man, that your girlfriend is no longer the only Slayer. And that she is the elder of the two._"

"Faith's in trouble?"

"_Yes. From what the seers are seeing; she has been targeted by…_" Madam Ward took a deep, fortifying breath, "…_by the First Evil._"

* * *

_Buffy's P.O.V._

_**Giles' Apartment, Pasadena, California—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

Buffy shook her head, "I just don't get why she didn't tell me—tell any of us?"

"Miss Lehane has not led an easy life, Buffy, you know that," her watcher chided her gently, even as his gaze remained fixed on the scrolls and books he was trying to tear answers out of. "And I'm sure you know—better than anyone else ever could—that it is not in the nature of a Slayer to admit to weakness of any kind."

Buffy winced, but then nodded. "No. I guess it's not."

Really what bothered her was the fact that she hadn't picked up on this more than she had. She'd thought that Faith was still stuck in nightmares of her former Watcher's untimely—and horrific—end and that only time could really help her moved past that. Sure, she'd tried to talk to her a few times. But obviously she should've tried harder. Much harder. She should have known that nothing would be that simple for any of them… Faith and Buffy in particular.

"Perhaps you should head back home, Buffy? Miss Lehane may return there—"

It bothered Buffy, a little, that Giles was so good at lying. Because her empathetic senses were telling her what her eyes and ears couldn't from watching him; he didn't believe what he was saying. "No. She won't."

Giles sighed, "Perhaps not," he conceded, before glancing at the clock.

"Mom's up anyway, she'll call if Faith comes home." she added, trying to ignore the heavy bags under Giles's eyes and the weary droop in his shoulders made Buffy feel a little bad—her Watcher didn't have superpowers and needed much more sleep than she did. But that couldn't be helped anymore than how worried Buffy and her mother both were for the recent addition to their family.

"You could try looking for her. You know Miss—"

"Faith, Giles. Her name's Faith." Buffy cut him off, shaking her head when he frowned at her, "She doesn't like going by her last name. If she has a choice, she doesn't even introduce herself with it."

"Uh, well, yes. Very well. You know _Faith_, and you know Sunnydale. If anyone can find her out there, it would have to be you, I think."

The Slayer nodded, knowing that more than anything Giles just wanted her to go, and that since she had a cell phone now he could—and would—call her if he found anything. "Okay. Call if you find anything."

"Of course," he agreed, eyes back at the books and not bothering to watch as she strode through his front door, pulling it shut behind her on the way out.

"Where are you, Faith?" Buffy muttered, only half her attention on where she was walking; the rest of it turned inward, hoping her Slay-dar, Sineya or maybe something else in there could lead her to her sister Slayer before it was too late…

* * *

_Faith's P.O.V._

_**Kingman's Bluff, California—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

"You don't have to do this, Faith." The ghost's words sounded hollow as the Slayer stared at the horizon, where the sun should be peaking up out of in the near future.

"If it's me or B," Faith shook her head forcefully, "I ain't killin' B."

"This is a waste of your potential."

The youngest Slayer snorted, shaking her head again. "What potential? I'm not supposed to _exist_, remember?"

"No!" Di spat, sounding angry—the first time any emotion had entered her words since they'd arrived here. "You were called as the Slayer after Buffy Summer's death. She died, Faith! She was supposed to stay that way. And you're supposed to be the only Slayer, now."

"Why? B's better at it anyway."

Di didn't answer right away, but Faith could feel her stare boring into her back like an ice pick. "You're younger, and you're both different people, Faith. That doesn't mean she's better than you. You just haven't realized—"

"My potential?" Faith spat, then chuckled darkly. "What kind of _potential_ could the brat of a druggie that got knocked up by one a her john's have?"

"…Only you can decide that."

"B's better than me, Di. I know it—everyone does. Even you."

"So you're just going to give up, then?"

Faith nodded, a little shakily. "It's me or B. Not a hard choice. Not really."

A few moments of heavy, expectant silence hung between them before the ghost spoke up again. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Faith's chuckle was still dark, "Sunrise is soon. A few more minutes shouldn't hurt the world too much, right?"

_RING. RING. RING._

"That'll be your better, calling to talk you of this, no doubt."

"She won't." Faith shook her head. "But that's not B's ring."

_RING. RING. RING._

"Still, you shouldn't answer it if you've already made up your mind."

"Why would math-man be calling now?" Faith wondered aloud, even as she slipped her phone out of its holster on her belt.

"Don't—"

She'd already flipped the phone open and brought it up by her head. "Yeah?"

"_Faith!_" the genius somehow sounded equal parts relieved and worried. "_Are you okay?_"

"Y-Yeah, 5 by 5, math-man." Faith lied, while her confused brain rolled back to the ghost's previous statement. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Why would Buffy be worried about her?

Why was Charlie worried?

"_You're in danger. The covens' seers say—_"

A loud burst of static made Faith wince as she jerked her head back a little.

"_Faith? Can…hear me?_"

"You shouldn't be talking to him, Faith. He's not helping."

Faith turned around just enough to frown at her former Watcher, but she kept talking to Charlie. "You're breakin' up, math-man. I can't hear you."

"…_home…Please!_"

Go home?

"You can't go back, Faith. Not unless you've realized the truth: that Summers is the one that should die."

"No!" Faith glared at her, whatever pain she'd previously felt at looking upon her deceased mentor's image banished by the anger aroused by the threat to her sister.

"_Faith… listen…please!_"

Faith bit her lip, "I've gotta go, Charlie," she shook her head again. "I'm sorry."

"_No, Fai—_"

The Slayer snapped her phone shut a little more forcefully than she should've, wincing a little as her ears caught the somewhat familiar sound of plastic cracking under the stress of supernatural strength. But it hardly mattered, so she ignored it as she pressed the power button a bit more carefully, waiting until the sound that meant it was turning off came out before she dropped the device.

It bounced off the hard ground by her feet, and then fell over the edge of the cliff to the rocky waters that awaited her, drawing the brunette's eyes downward.

* * *

_Charlie's P.O.V._

_**Lily's House, Pasadena, California—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

"No, Faith!" Charlie winced as a dial tone abruptly started assaulting his ear.

"No luck?" Lily asked, as worried as he was.

"No." Charlie sighed as he ended the call and hit a different speed dial.

"_Charlie?_"

"Annie, I think she's near the ocean. I could hear waves in the background."

"_How—you called her? Why didn't I think of that?_"

"You can try, if you want. But she hung up on me: I don't think she'll answer again. I'll keep trying, though."

"_Thanks… So, either this first-thing has some kind of trap set up for her by the beach, or—_"

"The seers said it wants her to kill herself."

"…_So, what? It's gonna try and make her drown herself? Don't think that'd work well with a Slayer. I mean, it only worked on me when I was unconscious._"

Charlie nodded in fatalistic agreement. "That'd probably give her too much time to change her mind, too. No, if anything it's going to try and get her to jump from somewhere high enough to either kill her or knock her out, so that she'd then drown. I know the oceans not that far from Sunnydale, but can you think of any really high cliffs nearby? Over three stories, or thereabouts. No, actually more, since she's a Slayer, it'd want higher, if possible."

Annie thought for a second, and he felt the realization hit her when it did. "_Kingman's Bluff! It's gotta be._"

"Alright," Charlie nodded, crossing his fingers as he continued. "You should go there. I'll keep trying to get in touch with her."

"_Right. I'll call you soon._"

"Be care…" Charlie trailed off as the annoying sound of a dial tone came at his ear, but he immediately ended the call on his end and dialed Faith's phone again, before putting the phone back to his ear.

_Ring._

"Come on, Faith."

_Ring._

"Come on…"

_Ring._

_Ring._

Charlie started talking as soon as he heard the phone pick-up, "Faith, please listen—"

"_The person you are trying to reach is not available now. Please leave a message after the tone._"

_Beep!_

With a frustrated groan, Charlie slammed his thumb down on the end call button, before lightly dropping the phone on a nearby table as he dropped down onto Lily couch, dropping his head into hands to rub at his brow as if it could chase some of his frustration away.

"She didn't answer?"

"No," Charlie confirmed, looking up to meet Lily's concerned gaze. Agatha Ward, Constance and Deborah looked equally worried. "She must've turned her phone off." Then he winced, remembering his angry action of a second before and just how strong his girlfriend and her sister Slayer were—as Slayers. "Or she might've broken it."

"There must be something we can do!" Lily insisted, looking towards the older witches, whom Charlie also turned hopeful eyes to.

"You can't hope to grasp the scope of the foe the Slayers now face." Madam Ward sighed, shaking her head. "But we are open to suggestions?"

Charlie stared at her for a long moment, before almost jumping as images from Sineya—memories, his memories—dashed across his eyes.

_Everything around him blurred. Charlie closed his eyes, hoping to stop the confusing onslaught of imagery, or at least the painful pressure that had suddenly built up behind his eyes. Physically, his eyes closed, but the muddled impressions kept coming and the pressure kept building and he couldn't stop the cry of pain that sprang from his throat. Then, just as suddenly as it all started, the chaos stopped, and the genius was left in the darkness behind his closed eyelids with Annie's warm concern washing over him._

Charlie blinked to clear his sight, and wasn't surprised to see all four witches were watching him closely—though he was rather surprised by Sineya's suggestion, since she'd been so opposed to it the last time he'd tried it. "Astral projection," he said, putting as much confidence—though it was feigned confidence—into the words as he could.

Madam Ward frowned deeply at him, but it was Deborah who objected.

"Are you _insane?_" her dark eyes were wide with the horror that was also coming off her in waves right now. "You want to try and beat _The First Evil_ _in its own plane?_"

"It's the only magic I know how to do—and you're already here. You can pull me back if I go astray again—"

"Last time you were almost pulled under by the Hellmouth; a barely apperceptive presence on the astral plane, though it's specter is far-reaching and stronger the closer you get to it," Constance shook her head, also displeased. "You're talking about taking on the cause of all evil in existence in the one realm where it's still almost omnipotent."

Charlie shook his head, "But—"

Madam Ward cut him off, "If you lose yourself in _The First Evil_'s presence, Doctor Eppes," she shook her head slowly. "It will destroy you. And we will not be powerful enough to stop it."

"Of course we wouldn't…" Deborah shook her head, though now she was staring at the silver-haired elder. "You can't be thinking of really doing this, Madam!"

The eldest witch shook her head, closing her eyes as she replied. "_Every_ seer in California with even the slightest connection to the covens in Los Angeles received visions about this from the Powers That Be. They want us to intervene." She opened her eyes, and her mouth was set in a firm line as she arched an eyebrow at the younger witches. "Who are we to deny them?"

Charlie frowned slightly, the dislike he'd been developing—towards the 'higher beings' that supposedly gave Buffy her 'destiny'—over the last few months rearing it's head for a second, before he shook it off. "If we're going to do this, it'll have to be now."

Madam Ward nodded, before waving her hand towards the far end of the living room. Immediately, all the furniture there pulled away from towards the walls, leaving only the thick rug there. Several of the candles Lily had lit around the room rose in the air and floated towards the same area, till they'd formed a circle in the air, levitating a few inches above the rug. Then the same crystals that Lily had used last time floated over also, the whitish clear ones coming out of a drawer that opened itself to do so; the almost clear crystals formed another hovering circle, just outside the candles. Then the larger green crystal took its place to the north, the red to the south, the blue to the west and the yellow to the east.

"Lily, you will face the East. Deborah, the West. Constance, the South. I will be the North. Dr. Eppes—Charlie, you will sit in the center, facing Sunnydale—to the northwest." She moved towards the circle with quick, sure steps that her aged body probably shouldn't be capable of as the others following her. "Charlie, you must remain focused on two things: finding Faith and holding true to yourself."

Charlie nodded, understanding what she was talking about easily now. The first was the thing he'd tried to do to help Buffy some time before, which'd gotten him into considerable trouble—and afterwards, agony—because he hadn't had the proper training for it. The second was the most important, and most basic, lesson Madam Ward had been drumming into his head every single session he'd had with her. Useful both for astral projection _and_ the bond he shared with Annie and Sineya. And, apparently, Faith.

"Ladies, it will be our task to protect him. To shield him—and the Slayers—as best we can."

Fear was the dominant emotion in Deborah's psyche as she spoke up then, "We won't be able to—"

"Every coven in Los Angeles tonight is focusing their collective powers into sending The First Evil away from our world." Madam Ward told her, voice now gentle but still firm. "It will be struggling to hold its purchase here."

"But Madam," Deborah objected, "the astral plane is where The First Evil is at its most powerful in our dimension, we won't stand—"

"We cannot force you to take part in this, little sister," Madam Ward interrupted again, and again sighed. "Though we cannot do it without you, either. Will you help, or not?"

Charlie turned his eyes on the nervous witch, suppressing the urge to try and influence her decision with the empathetic powers he was still just getting used to. For one, it wouldn't be entirely ethical to do so, for another, he wasn't sure he could influence a witch as powerful and practiced as Deborah or Constance. Because, while neither was Agatha Ward, he knew from the respect that was directed there way whenever he met them near any member of their coven—or other covens—that they weren't lightweights in power or in the wiccan community either.

After a long, tense moment, the brunette sighed, nodding with obvious reluctance. "Very well, we'd best be quick."

"Thank you," Charlie breathed to her, even as he hurried to the position Agatha gestured to, watching them take their positions around him, all sitting down carefully.

A moment later, Charlie saw the rejuvenating glow of magic highlight the oldest witch, somehow turning her hair whiter but making her look younger all the same as the green crystal in front of her suddenly lit up. All the other crystals followed suit, glowing brightly, but it was a second before the blue crystal to the west glowed more brightly than the clear crystals, another second before the yellow crystal to the east matched it, and several more seconds before the southern crystal's red light matched them.

Several moments afterward, Charlie could just barely perceive the spell they were casting: in the form of the barely visible, golden dome that appeared just outside of the floating crystals, enclosing them all.

"Now, Charlie," Madam Ward instructed.

Obediently, Charlie closed his eyes and started carefully breathing even as his most of his mind immediately focused on Sineya's growling presence within. '_Sineya? Help me help Faith, please._'

Her distant growl became a little softer, he thought, but she didn't otherwise respond as he started to chant the same words he'd used before.

"Ego sum procul pacis. Ego sum universa. Ego peto scientia. Ego transporto meus plasmatis absentis—"

Again, he didn't finish as everything blurred around him. Though this time he could feel Sineya's presence even through the chaotic whirlwind his senses perceived around his astral form.

* * *

_Buffy's P.O.V._

_**Nearing Sunnydale's Outskirts, California—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

Although she was quite capable of outpacing a professional sprinter in high heels, there were times Buffy regretted her adamancy in maintain a fashionable figure. This was one of them. Because no matter how fast she was in high heels, a part of her wondered if she might be just a little faster in sneakers. And if that ever-so-slight lack of speed might cost her the life of her sister-Slayer; a girl that'd quickly become a member of her family over the last few months.

"_Help!_ Someone help me!"

Buffy growled as she detoured down a nearby alley, not slowing at all as she approached the vampire that was getting ready to bite its struggling victim. Instead, she just slipped around behind it, a stake flipping smoothly into hand with the ease of far too much practice to shove down into the vamp's heart from behind.

By the time the vamp's dust had settled and the idiot that was out in the pre-dawn hours on Sunnydale's dangerous streets looked around for her savior, Buffy was already darting out the other end of the alley, turning back on course in the direction of the bluff that she thought Faith was contemplating jumping from.

"_Please_ let me be on time," Buffy prayed, not entirely sure of whom she was praying to, but earnest in her prayer nonetheless.

It was as her feet flew across the ground that was really considered the 'border' of the town proper that Buffy stumbled slightly, feelings of fear and doubt and hate—self-hate—slamming at her from the direction she was headed in.

"Hold on, Faith," she muttered, leaning forward and struggling to make her legs move faster, "Just hold on."

* * *

_Faith's P.O.V._

_**Kingman's Bluff, California—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

"She's going to try to stop you if you wait too long," the ghost spoke up again, after several long moments of letting Faith stare at the horizon that'd just started turning a lighter shade of purple than the almost-black purple that the sky usually was at this hour, when the sun was just starting to reach its life-giving rays out to this area.

Faith smiled slightly, nodding. "Yah. B's a hero, you know. She's gotta try."

"And you're not a hero?"

Faith snorted, shrugging her shoulders. "I may be a Slayer, but I'm not like B. I've slain vamps, and the occasional demon. But B's the one with the world on her shoulders mosta the time." She shook her head. "I don't know how she does it."

"You underestimate yourself, Faith. You have the potential to be just as—"

"No, I don't. I really don't." Faith shook her head. "No matter how much B, Mrs. S, math-man, G-man and B's other friend's try ta help; I'll never be able to shake my roots."

"…However feeble and twisted a few roots of a young oak might be, it can still grow more, and become a mighty tree."

Faith closed her eyes as she winced as she remembered all the times her first Watcher had said those very same words to her. "You always said that." She shook her head, "I don't get it. Why do you believe in me so much?"

"You were Chosen, Faith. Out of every other girl in the world, _you_ were Chosen to become the Slayer; humanity's mightiest protector against the demonic tide."

Faith frowned a little as she shook her head again. "I wasn't the Slayer when you first took me in."

"No," Di chuckled softly. "You were just a little girl, then. But you were still a Potential; a girl who might one day be the Slayer."

"I thought…" Faith trailed off, trying to ignore the painful pang in her heart. She'd known that that was why Diane Dormer had found her and taken her in off the streets in the first place. She hadn't been homeless then, but she'd been smart enough to know that there were times when living on the streets was safer than going home. That was one of the times. A respected Harvard Professor wouldn't do that for just any abused pick-pocket, after all. But she had, honestly, believed that she'd meant more than that to the woman after spending several years in her care. After all, Di had always introduced Faith to everyone as her daughter. That word had warmed Faith's heart each time… and left it all the more susceptible to being torn in two when she'd seen the sweet old woman die in Kakistos' hands. To hear that she'd always been just a job to her Watcher hurt.

"Thought what, Faith?" Di asked, in the same gentle voice she'd always used when she'd waken her up from a nightmare or when she was waiting for Faith to figure something out; usually the meaning behind one of her high-minded lessons.

Faith shook her head again, "'S not important." She looked at the horizon again, unsurprised to see that the edge of purple area was gradually becoming a lighter purple still.

* * *

_Charlie's P.O.V._

_**Kingman's Bluff, California—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

"_**Faith!**__" _Charlie reached for her form, but was only able to make his astral form move a little on his own before Sineya shoved him towards the youngest Slayer.

That same burst of alarm he'd felt the last time he'd tried this hit him as his sank into Faith's shoulder, trying—but unable—to grab it.

"What?" Faith frowned as she looked around, looking right at Charlie but not seeing him. "Di, what's wrong?"

Behind him, he could sense Sineya—and hear her deep, guttural growls.

"Nothing, my dear," a woman's voice murmured—and Charlie turned his head in surprise to look at her.

The woman was older than Charlie's mother—old enough to be his grandmother, probably. The hair that almost reached her shoulders was more gray than brown. And her face looked as kind as her voice sounded…

But Sineya was tensed between Charlie and Faith and the old woman, growling more ferociously at her than he'd ever seen—or sensed—her respond to anything before.

And, on top of that, his empathetic senses were growing crazy around her. At first thought, he might think something was wrong with Sineya, but no…

Sineya was ancient, and far more animalistic in nature then human, but she wasn't evil.

And what Charlie was sensing was, for lack of any better word; evil.

Dark and twisted emotions that didn't remotely match the gentle look the old woman was giving Faith as she spoke softly to her.

"But, I'm afraid my time here has come to an end."

"What?" Faith objected, staring at her in clear bewilderment. "But, Di, I thought—"

"I'm already dead, child. I was only given so much time to try to help you," the old woman shook her head gently, though Charlie saw her glance at Sineya several times even as she seemed to be focused on Faith.

She didn't spare him even the slightest glance, though he was floating right next to the youngest Slayer.

"But I see I cannot change your mind; so I will be waiting for you. To welcome you into heaven, as is your right." She cocked her head to the side slightly. "Or Buffy's, if you chance your mind."

Charlie felt his 'astral eyes' widen in horror.

"But, Di, can't you stay till—"

"I'm sorry, Faith. But I will be waiting, whatever you decide."

Then she vanished, and all the darkness and horrible emotions that'd surrounded her like a cocoon of evil went with her.

Sineya continued to growl softly, but she noticeably relaxed nonetheless.

Charlie turned his full attention back to Faith as she turned towards the cliff's edge again, staring off into the distance where the first hues of red were starting to stain the horizon. A little hesitantly, he tried to talk to her, hoping she'd hear him how ever she'd been able to before. "_**Faith, you don't want to die.**_"

"I don't want to d-die," Faith mumbled, her lower lip trembling slightly before she bit it, shaking her head or furiously. "But if it's me or B…"

"_**You don't need to die.**_"

"Me or B…"

Charlie stared at her for an all too long second, before his brain latched onto just whom The First Evil must have pretending to be. "_**That was not Diane Dormer.**_"

Faith's brow furrowed in clear confusion even as a tear slipped out of her right eye and down her cheek. "Not Di?" Then she shook her head furiously, self-hatred and anger rolling of her. "Gotta do this, for B. For Mrs. S. Math-man. Everyone."

"_**No!**_" Charlie threw every bit of emotion he was feeling behind the word even as he made the mistake of trying to pull her back from the cliff's edge, only for his hand to slip right threw her shoulder again. "_**You don't have to do this, Faith. That thing was not Diane Dormer. It was a demon!**_"

"Di—a demon?" Faith shook her head again, "No, gotta do this."

And to Charlie's utter horror, she took another step towards the cliff's edge.

He snapped his head towards Sineya, who was still growling softly, but watching them closely. "_**You've gotta help. I can't stop her from—**_"

Sineya actually rolled her eyes as she came up beside him, reaching out to grab Faith's shoulder just like he was—but she could actually grab her and toss her away from the edge of the cliff—

Right into Buffy.

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

_Buffy's P.O.V._

_**Kingman's Bluff, California—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

Buffy almost stumbled again as she took in the sight at the top of the bluff. Because right next to Faith were Charlie and Sineya's see-through forms hovering a little ways off the ground. Though unlike the last time she'd seen him like this, Charlie was glowing a faint golden color.

Shaking her head, she kept running, barely managing to stop in time when Sineya suddenly tossed Faith right through Charlie and into her arms.

Both Slayers went down, tumbling back down the hillside Buffy had only just run up. But at the bottom, Buffy managed to lock herself around Faith in a hold that even a Slayer would have trouble breaking—especially since another Slayer was the one doing the holding.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buffy demanded of her sister Slayer.

"B?" she could hear the frown and the confusion in the brunette's voice, but it wasn't there with her next words. "Let me go!" she demanded, only then starting to struggle.

It took some effort, but Buffy was nonetheless able to keep her where she was.

"Let me go! I've gotta do this!"

"Do what?" Buffy demanded again, shaking her head as she kept shifting and grappling and twisting to keep the younger girl where she was. "Kill yourself? Make some other girl step into the shadows to handle our job?"

"_**Buffy, she thinks The First Evil is the ghost of Diane Dormer, her old Watcher,**_" Charlie called to her from the top of the bluff.

Buffy blinked, but followed his lead anyway. "Faith, that thing you were seeing, it wasn't Di's ghost—"

"What? Yeah it—"

"No, it's some kind of demon—a major big bad—called The First Evil." Buffy insisted, before asking, "How long have you been seeing it?"

Faith was still shaking her head, "No… she's been helping me with my nightmares."

"It's probably been causing your nightmares, Faith!"

"But it was Di! It sounded just like her! Knew me, just like—"

"So it did its research!" Buffy snapped, shaking her head. "Do you really think a Watcher—especially one that cared about you as much as it sounds like your 'Di' did—would want you to kill yourself?"

Faith stilled, and was quiet for several seconds, before she finally admitted, "She doesn't want me to kill myself."

Buffy blinked, "…It doesn't?" the turmoil of emotions wafting off her friends was as confusing as the words she was hearing.

"B—you've gotta let me do this!"

"What does it—" an elbow in her cut halted her words with a gasp, but didn't make her release her furiously struggling friend as she forced out the sentence on almost no air, "What does it want?"

"Di doesn't want me dead, B! The world does!"

"Faith, I told you, that wasn't—"

"How would you know? You never even met her!"

"No," Buffy agreed, still struggling to hold her friend, and silently thanking the two years more of experience that made her capable of it, despite Faith's strength being equal to her own. "But I know _you_, Faith! And I know how much Diane meant to you!"

"So—"

"And I don't think you could care half as much for someone who was capable of wanting you to commit suicide!"

"That's what Watchers _do_, isn't it?" Faith snapped. "And I told you—"

"Not Merrick! Not Giles! And not Diane Dormer, either!"

"She doesn't want me to kill myself! She—"

"Wants you to do something worse?" Buffy demanded, shaking her head—and then just barely managing to move her head out of the way of Faith's elbow as she tried to get her under the chin. "Wants you to do something that you'd rather die then do?"

"Yes!"

"And you think your 'Di' would want that?"

"If it's that or the world—"

"The world's doing just fine, Faith! And the only ones in it that want us dead are the demons!"

Faith suddenly stilled under her, her shoulders heaving on the same exerted breaths that were escaping on bursts out of Buffy's lips.

Buffy didn't release her hold, though she did shift slightly to a position that gave her more leverage in case Faith started struggling again.

"Buffy, please," Faith finally said, her voice very quiet. "I'm trying to do the right thing here, to be strong about—"

"Strong is fighting!" Buffy cut her off again, shaking her head and glaring down at her furiously, "The right thing to do is to keep fighting as long as we possibly can! It's hard and it's painful, and it's every day! And it's what we have to do. For everyone else, and for ourselves."

Faith didn't say anything in response, just staid where Buffy had pinned her, face almost pressed into the dirt, self-doubt rolling off of her.

Buffy sighed several seconds later, continuing more gently, "And we can do it together, Faith. The Chosen Two, remem—"

When Faith shifted this time, Buffy let her roll, and the brunette's face came 'round right into the swing of the older Slayer's fist; the blow more than strong enough to knock Faith out of the realm of consciousness for a little while.

"Damn it!" Buffy swore, before turning her head slightly to glare up the hill even as she got to her feet as she sensed her boyfriend's exasperated amusement. "Not. One. Word."

"_**I didn't say anything,**_" Charlie objected, shaking his head. Though the amused look left his face as his eyes went back down to Faith, "_**What are you going to do now? I thought you'd convinced her for a second there.**_"

"Me too," Buffy sighed, shaking her head. "I guess I'll take her to Giles, see what he thinks we should do," she grimaced. "And I know he has chains strong enough to restrain a Slayer—don't ask me why, I've never wanted to ask him. Though Faith probably will, once she's out of this funk." She shook her head again, even as she leaned down to pick the brunette up, gently shifting her over to shoulder till she had her in a fireman's carry.

"_**She's been having nightmares for weeks now, Buffy. It may take that long, or longer, for her to recover from this,**_" Charlie pointed out, the sadness she could feel through their bond audible in his words, too. "_**Make sure she talks to Dr. Platt about it, he should be able to help.**_"

Buffy nodded her agreement, before frowning at him. "I'm going to get her away from temptation," she gestured at the cliff behind him. "You need to get back to your body."

Charlie chuckled, but nodded, "_**Yes, ma'am.**_"

She rolled her eyes even as she watched him start chanting.

"Ego sum procul pacis. Ego peto peractio." He slowly started to fade from view, "Ego transporto meus mens domus. Ego transporto meus phasmatis dormus. Ego peto meus somes. Ego peto peractio." When he finished the last word, he was barely visible, and then he wasn't. [1]

Sineya looked at her, nodded, and also vanished.

Buffy sighed, turning back to Sunnydale to take Faith to their Watcher.

* * *

_Charlie's P.O.V._

_**Lily's House, Pasadena, California—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

Charlie couldn't suppress the instinctive rush of alarm that rushed through him when he found himself back in his body again. Because, while he was no longer roaming the astral plane and had, according to all his senses and the limited magical training he'd had, made it back to his body; his body didn't want to move. He could barely breathe! He couldn't even open his eyes!

"Ah, back with us once again, Dr. Eppes? Very good." Madam Ward's voice sounded somewhat odd to his ears. Warm and confident, which were both normal, but ragged and weary, too. Especially audible in the deep breath she took before she spoke again, her words a little slower than normal, as if carefully chosen to conceal something. "Just a moment. I'm afraid we had to lock your body in place for this particular venture; to avoid some of the pains you faced after your last astral journey across the Hellmouth."

As she was finishing, he felt the rush of warmth he'd come to associate with the wise old witch's magic flow through his body. Then he was able to breathe more deeply, pulling in grateful gulps of oxygen as he pulled his eyelids apart. Only to blink at the utter destruction that'd occurred all around him.

Lily's living room looked like a mini war had taken place there.

The furniture that the eldest witch had waved to the edges of the room were no longer lining the wall in her orderly fashion; now they were all tipped askew, and whole chunks of them had been knocked out somehow.

The edges of the thick, circular rug they'd sat down upon were charred back, with smoke stretching towards the ceiling. The same ashy circle had been burned into the ceiling itself, though the black mark stretched further inward, as if whatever magic that'd kept them safe on the carpet had been stretched too thing up there.

Lily's candles were almost entirely gone; though with careful scrutiny he could see a few spots of wax cooling on the floor not far from the rug's burnt edges.

And everywhere there were little bits of sparkling sand. Some scattered across the floor. Some blasted into the walls, the furniture, the ceiling and the floor. It took Charlie a few long seconds to realize that that sand was what was left of the clear crystals that'd formed the hovering circle of protection inside the circle of demolished candles.

The largest crystals were still there, but had clearly taken a beating, too. The green one in front of Madam Ward had fared the best; the side facing out only a little scorched. The red crystal by Constance was also scorched, and it looked like a bit of the tip had either exploded or been blown off by a nearby explosion. The blue crystal—Deborah's—and the yellow one—Lily's—were now both in two pieces, the inner edges jagged from where they'd exploded away from their matches, and melted by obviously intense heat. Like Madam Ward, Constance was at least conscious, though clearly worse for wear. But Deborah and Lily were both slumped over, their eyes closed; but thankfully breathing.

"What happened?" Charlie questioned quietly, unable to keep the horror he was feeling from his voice. Sineya's mood wasn't helping; she'd started growling as soon as he'd opened his eyes and seen all the chaos around him.

Instead of answering him, the white-haired witch asked; "I hope you were successful?"

Charlie swallowed, fighting the urge to make demands he had no right to voice as he slowly nodded his head. "Yes, Annie got there in time. But what—"

"This," Constance—who'd moved over to maneuver Lily into a more comfortable position, resting the girl's head in her lap—sighed, "is what happens when we take on entities as powerful as The First Evil." She nodded towards the other unconscious witch's form, "Deborah was right to be wary. We were lucky."

"Lucky," Charlie shook his head as he looked around, eyes wide.

"Yes," Madam Ward replied, "We were very fortunate. Our defenses were able to withstand the First's wrath, if only just."

"Thanks to you, madam," Constance nodded to her, a clear gesture of respect; particularly with the almost-reverence in her eyes. "I thought we were dead when Deborah collapsed, since you were already holding Lily's point then. I can't imagine how you were able to hold three points for so long; I could barely handle my one."

The older witch's answering chuckle was decidedly rueful, "Put away your awe, child." She grimaced as she pushed herself up off the floor to stagger towards the nearest window, sitting gingerly on the edge. "It was not easy; I merely did what needed to be done."

"But, I was only gone—" Charlie glanced towards the wall where Lily's clock in this room usually resided; but like several pictures on the wall the surface had been both burnt and blasted, and was thus unreadable. He shook his head, aghast; "I couldn't have been gone even ten minutes!"

"Minutes, maybe," Constance sighed as she finished laying Lily out on her back, before moving onto her other coven sister. "But for us it may as well have been years."

Seeing his confusion—mingled with horror—Madam Ward spoke up again. "You must understand, Dr. Eppes, that a being like The First Evil, is no mere demon. Though it has no physical presence on this plane; that does not mean it lacks real power." She shook her head then, "Though an assault like this should certainly tip the balance in favor of good for a while, at least."

Looking around the wrecked room, Charlie thought that the assault also made it very clear that, for whatever reason, The First Evil—the cause of all evil, if what the covens believed was true—saw him as a very great threat. That he could be so great a source of good was something to be proud of; though it could cause him—and Annie, too—no end of worry in the future.

* * *

_Faith's P.O.V._

_**Giles' Apartment, Sunnydale, California—Friday, December 13, 1996**_

Faith winced as she started to come to, a recognizable ache radiating from her jaw. Obviously she'd been clocked there, and she fought the urge to frown as the memories came back, knowing that frowning would just make it hurt more.

"'…shall be born of man and goat and have two heads, and The First shall speak only in riddles…'" Buffy's voice changed from her 'reading something stupid' voice to her teasing one as she closed a book with a solid slam of pages. "No wonder you like this stuff. It's like reading The Sun."

"Yes," was G-man's distracted agreement. Then a moment later was a more pleased, "Ah."

"Find something on the priests?"

The Watcher didn't answer right away, and Faith suppressed the urge to shift, especially since she could feel the chains around her wrists and ankles and the ropes binding her arms to her sides.

"Uh—Yes, but, uh, it's more…more posturing, I'm afraid. Um," he started reading then, "'For they are the Harbingers of death. Nothing shall grow above or below them. No seed shall flower, neither in man nor…'" he sighed, as he trailed off, and Faith thought he might be shaking his head as he looked up from the book. "They're rebels and they'll never be any good. Nothing specific about their haunts."

Buffy sighed, but it wasn't Giles she directed her next question at, "How are you feeling, Faith? Sorry about the jaw."

Faith grimaced, but opened her eyes to glare at the older Slayer and the slightly startled Watcher. "You shouldn't have stopped me."

"Why not?"

"It's the right thing for me to—"

"No, me stopping you was the right thing to do." Buffy held up a hand to forestall her protests, and Faith kept glaring at her, but otherwise complied as the blonde raised an eyebrow at the Watcher they shared. "Giles, you should probably get with the explaining, she's not listening to me."

"B—"

"Uh-uh, be a good Slayer and listen to your nice Watcher."

Faith couldn't help but snort at that.

"Like you do?" the Watcher asked, smirking slightly.

"I listen," Buffy shrugged, "I don't always obey, but I do listen."

Giles chuckled softly as he walked over to couch that Faith was tied up on, sitting down in the chair next to her. "Faith, what does The First Evil want you to do?"

"Di's not—"

"Diane Dormer was a wonderful woman, Faith. But she is now dead. Were she to return as a ghost, it would've been long before now. And it certainly never would've been to call for your death."

"She didn't—"

"One of The First Evil's perhaps most awful powers, is it's ability to assume the forms of loved ones that have died, in order to influence the living, just as it has been influencing you."

Faith shook her head, "But I was having Slay-mares—visions—"

"They weren't visions, they were nightmares, Faith." Giles interrupted her once again, shaking his head, his serious gaze locked with hers. "Slayers have simple dreams and nightmares, too. Some powerful spirits can plant dreams and nightmares, and The First Evil is more than powerful enough."

"But…" Faith trailed off, shaking her head just a little, "She helped me—"

"I'm sure it put a great deal of effort into making you see what it wanted you to see; believe what it wanted you to believe."

Faith squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head in denial.

"It doesn't make you weak, Faith," Buffy spoke up again, very softly. "With how long it took, and how powerful this thing's s'pose' to be, I'd say it proves that you're a lot stronger then even you think you are."

"Very much so," Giles agreed, and his eyes were warm when she finally opened her own to look at him again. "Now, Faith, that The First has actually found a way to have even this slight purchase on this plain is problematic, and we need to banish it once more. But we need to put a stop to it."

"What did it want you to do, Faith?"

"She…" Faith trailed off, then closed her eyes before continuing. "It wants one of us to die."

After several seconds of silence, Buffy spoke again, "No. It wants me dead, doesn't it?" When Faith looked at her, she shook her head. "You said it didn't want you to kill yourself, not really, so it must be me it wants."

"Not necessarily," Giles cut in, drawing both Slayers eyes back to him. "The being we speak of is, quite literally, the source of all evil. It has been around for a very long time, and…plays very complex games. It may want one or both of you dead, or it may want something else entirely, and haunting Faith was a means to that end. We can't ever really be sure."

Faith narrowed her eyes at him, again trying not to frown since she knew her jaw would really not like it. "But you said you needed to know what Di—what it wanted me to do!"

"Yes, to help you recover, we do." Giles looked towards Buffy then, "But to put an end to this haunting, we need to stop whatever ritual its priests—the Harbingers of Evil—are performing to help it access the Hellmouth."

"So stop the priests and The First goes away?" Buffy grimaces, "But isn't there anyway to stop The First itself?"

"No," Giles shook his head. "The First Evil is only a spirit on this plane, and one with little real power at that. But only the higher powers can actually do anything against it directly, it is far beyond the abilities of any mortal—even a Slayer—to fell."

"But—"

"No, Buffy. It's simply not possible." Giles sighed, plucking his glasses off his nose to start cleaning them as he tried to explain. "The Balance is, more or less, an agreement between The First Evil and The Powers That Be, which governs how good and evil co-exist in our world. It makes our world what it is." He was shaking his head as he put his glasses back on and stowed his faithful handkerchief in his pocket again. "However much we might like to change that, we can not."

Buffy sighed, looking down, and Faith watched her fists clench several times as she clearly fought for control of her emotions.

It made the younger Slayer stare at her, honestly surprised by just how angry the blonde was.

Finally, Buffy looked up, "So I need to find these—Harbingers, right?"

No jokingly screwing up the name. No jokes to lighten the mood at all. B was well and truly pissed.

Faith couldn't blame her. She was starting to feel pissed, too; except the anger was kind of echoing up from more violent side, having to get through the self-doubt and distress that still held her head hostage.

"Yes," Giles nodded, glancing at a nearby clock. "Will you be attending school to—?"

"No. Call my mom, let her know what happened and have her call the school for me, so I can take care of this." Buffy looked down at her then, giving her a small, somewhat weak smile. "I'll be back soon, okay? Try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone."

Only just catching onto the fact that the older Slayer was planning on hunting their latest enemy without her, Faith struggled against the chains and ropes still binding her, while calling, "B, wait!"

Buffy stopped, already halfway to the front door, and turned to raise an eyebrow at her.

Faith stilled under the look, trying to focus on her anger through the self-doubt still as she insisted, "I need to go with you."

The blonde slowly shook her head, frowning at her. "Faith—"

"I won't try and kill myself, B. I swear. I'll swear it with magic if G-man can teach me how." Faith was pleading as she finished; a large part of her completely sure of what she was saying, even though she wasn't really thinking while the words flew out. "But I need to do this."

"Fai—"

"If you don't let me help, B, a part of me'll always wonder if it really was a demon or the woman who was like a mother to me that wanted me dead. _Please_."

Buffy stared at her for several seconds, and Faith met her eyes squarely, though she had to crane her neck from her tied up position to do so.

"Buffy," Giles interjected after a few moments of silence, "I think—"

"Alright," Buffy sighed as she cut their watcher off. She nodded at Giles, "Get the key, I'll untie her." As the Watcher obeyed, the older slayer came over to kneel beside the couch, slowly starting to undo the well-tied knots. "Don't make me regret this," she murmured too quietly for anyone without supernatural hearing to hear.

"I won't," Faith swore, more relieved then she could express that her sister Slayer still trusted her enough to give her a chance. And that she'd be able to hurt someone for everything she'd had to go through the last couple of weeks.

* * *

**End of…**

**Holiday Horrors**

_**Chapter 3.**_

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**NOTE FROM WITHIN THE CHAPTER:**

**[1] **Again, I used an English to Latin online translator for the Latin chant. "Ego sum procul pacis. Ego peto peractio. Ego transporto meus mens domus. Ego transporto meus phasmatis dormus. Ego peto meus somes. Ego peto peractio."

It (probably roughly) translates to: "I am at peace. I seek completion. I send my mind home. I send my spirit home. I seek my body. I seek completion."

* * *

**Author's End Note:** And apparently those are the only things I felt I needed to reference while writing. This shorter chapter thing is (still) a little weird for me…

I was actually planning on this being the final chapter before the epilogue of Holiday Horrors, but it was getting a bit long. And I wanted to update on 11/11/11. Just because.

Plus you guys have waited long enough for an update, so here you go!

Hope it was worth the wait.

So Faith's mostly out of the woods now; hope that wasn't too quick. Though, to be fair, the episode I based this on was much worse. I mean, really, it snows and suddenly Angel's not suicidal anymore? Yes, the snow was neat, but that always seemed a little off to me. Which was why we had to knock Faith out and tie her up. Even then, it'll take Faith a while to get through this.

But we still have the Harbingers of the First—and possibly the First itself—to deal with! So I'll try to get the next chapter to you ASAP. Hopefully that's sooner than it normally works out. Especially since I'm honestly more focused on trying to write my own novel—and a few other fan fics—right now. *sigh* Sorry. :-(

Anyway, hope everyone liked this chapter and this segment of the series thus far!

I'll try to get the next bit out soon. And I'm sincerely sorry for how long it's been between updates (for all my fics) but between work, life, and-more recently-trying to write my own novel, the time and energy I have to spare for fan fiction's been limited. But I do intend to FINISH this series (M&M), which keeps going through the end of BtVS Season 7 and (at least) into Numb3rs Season 1. So, while I can't say how long that'll take, you should see it eventually. Sooner rather than later, I hope. *fingers crossed for wishing, not fibbing*

* * *

**To Be Continued in…**

**Holiday Horrors**

_**Chapter 4?**_


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